After The Storm
by Bonbonnett
Summary: A what-if set after the proposal, Jane has second thoughts.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a what-if that takes place ofter the proposal scene and the storm. If you like it, let me know and I'll continue it-otherwise (heh heh) I'll leave you with "Cliff". By-eee!**

AFTER THE STORM

The morning was so beautiful—the storm was over, the sun was shining, and all the leftover raindrops were sparkling like the crystals in the drawing room chandelier. I opened my window to the fresh, cool air of the day. Birdsong and flowers awaited me outdoors. I dressed hastily—filled with the joy of the new day and the anticipation of the new life which Fate had offered me last night.

I skipped down the stairs and out the door of the Hall, I danced down the paths of the garden, I flew through the orchard gate and there, among the flowers and the bees and the fruiting trees, I saw-the wreck of the chestnut tree. It was like the last stroke of midnight for Cinderella at the ball. Suddenly my gay fantasy fell apart like the halves of a bright curtain; for somber reality had abruptly made its appearance. A little shiver ran along my spine—joy and sorrow, life and death—so little divided them, what must I expect to find in the time soon coming?

It was then I became conscious of the presence looming behind me—I turned, and beheld-Mr. Rochester. He was smiling, and I suddenly became aware once more of the beauty of the day.

"There you are little fairy! I've been seeking you all over this morning, come and have some Breakfast with me!"

"Oh sir, truly I should not. Mrs. Fairfax expects me, as you well know."

"Nonsense! Come along with me, we need to talk, there are plans to be made."

"Could we not talk after Breakfast—once the crumbs and the coffee are dealt with?"

"Hmph! Are you trying to get your own way so early on, Miss Eyre?"

"But of course, sir, should I not begin as I mean to go on?"

He made a truly impressively horrid face at me. I broke into laughter, which stilled as he caught hold of me and kissed me rather thoroughly. "Now Miss, that's for that sauce of yours—I'll expect to see you in the Library directly after you finish with your 'coffee and crumbs'."

I felt my cheeks hot, under his quizzical look, but I agreed to see him then.

-xxx-

Mrs. Fairfax was at the table when I stepped into her room. "Good morning, my dear, such a lovely day after all that storm last night. You're looking well, is that a new dress?"

I looked down at my lilac gingham, I had put it on without even noticing what I wore. "No, ma'am, I thought I would wear it in honor of Summer."

She looked down at her plate, she seemed ill at ease, I remembered that she had seen me with Mr. Rochester last night in the Hall. I decided on a direct approach-"You saw us last night when we came in from the storm," I said.

She peered at me over her spectacles, "I did, it has left me very concerned for you—you are so young and he is a great deal older, and I think you do not know much about men and their behavior. They can be so unscrupulous when they want something. Please be careful, my dear."

Once again, I felt that little chill of apprehension, but I would not let myself be ruled by baseless fears. I swallowed my concern and indulged my curiosity. "I think you said you had known the Rochester family a long time."

"Oh yes, my dear, a long time indeed—some thirty years or so."

"Then you must have known the present Mr. Rochester when he was young. Please, what was he like then?"

"Goodness! What was he like? Very mischievous at times, but there was no harm to him—he was fond of jokes and pranks—He and John (the man servant) were much of an age and would get into trouble together sometimes. But it was never anything too bad. Old Mr. Rochester had his hands full with those two sons of his I can tell you. Mr. Rowland was several years older than Mr. Edward and had his own friends and pursuits—the two of them seldom spent much time together. It's true though that when it came to preference—most of the folk around here liked Mr. Edward better than Mr. Rowland."

Leah came to the door just then to remind me that I was expected in the Library. I rose and went forth.

-xxx-

I was scarcely through the door when I found myself captured in his arms. "You were enchanting this morning when I came upon you in the orchard—all spangled with dewdrops and raindrops—my little water-elf."

I met his smile with one of my own. Truly, I had never felt this way before—so alive, so filled with joy. I felt as though all my life had hitherto been passed in shadow—now the clouds had passed away and I stood in the sunlight. "If I am a water-elf (whatever sort of being that might be), then you, sir, must be a garden-gnome!"

A rumble of laughter and several kisses was all the response I received for this piece of impertinence. "I must be thoroughly under your fairy-spell to not take exception to being called a gnome! Enough of this, there are plans to be made!" He ushered me to a seat on the sofa and sat beside me—I think I must have been blushing to have him so close—for he presently observed; "Your eyes are so bright and your cheeks so pink—you are not feverish are you?"

"No, indeed, I am very well today. If I am in a fever, it must be a fever of anticipation to know more of these plans you keep mentioning."

A long, strong arm stretched out and drew me closer to his side—there were some more kisses. "Ah well, this is very pleasant, but we diverge from the main theme," said he—rising and going to his desk where there were several papers lying loose upon the surface. "I thought that after our wedding, we might go abroad—you will enjoy Paris, I am sure—it is very beautiful and extremely elegant. I must have you outfitted by a couturiere I know of. You will be the envy of all the fashionable ladies! Today I will send to my banker in London for the Rochester jewels—there is a diamond parure that will rival your dewdrops for brilliance! I want you to shine like the treasure you are!"

By now I was very ill at ease—all these plans of his—jewels and fine frocks—such things would never feel right to me. He saw my little frown, "What is the matter, Janet? Don't you want to go to Paris with me?"

"It's not that, sir." I fell silent.

"Well then, what is the problem? I see that there is something that troubles you."

"It is just that I don't want to be some sort of dressed-up doll to be shown off to everybody. That's not the way I am! I would feel like a fool."

"I can see we will have to reach some sort of understanding here. You do need some new dresses and well you know it. I can't be taking you on a honeymoon in your governessing wardrobe—what would people think? They'd take me for some sort of penny pinching skinflint!"

"Very well, I suppose I could manage a few dresses—but not the jewels—please, let them stay in the bank, I really don't think they would suit me."

"Your request is granted, then—no jewels, for now, at least. Now go get ready to go to Millcote, the Wedding will be next month and we've got to find you a dress to wear."

My nerves were all on edge from his high-handed behavior. Perhaps that's what led me to blurt out my curiosity. "Please, could you tell me what you meant by all that flirtation with Blanche Ingram? The whole business was very odd."

His eyebrows rose in surprise, but he answered me readily enough. "Good Lord, are we back to that? I can see that you must have an answer, but I'm afraid you're going to be offended. I think that almost from the first time I saw you, I was fascinated by you. You were so different from every other young lady I had met. There was no dissembling, no flirtation, nothing but honesty from you. I'm afraid that a life in Society rather isolates one from finding these qualities in others."

"Why should I be offended to be found sincere?"

"I had not finished my extrapolation—witch! As you may have noticed from the party I recently hosted; young ladies are expected to be lovely and flirtatious, but not very clever. It is assumed that they will look more attractive for the purposes of Matrimony if they seem to be docile and pretty. All too often, one discovers too late that the surface and the reality are not the same. Never mind that, I'm afraid I am diverging from the point of your inquiry."

"You are rather far afield, I fear."

"Just looking at you is a strong distraction, my darling; but, to the point now—I, as I have said, was powerfully drawn to you from the beginning; while you, as far as I could tell, simply regarded me as a sort of friendly employer. I could make nothing of your feelings toward me. I thought perhaps a little dose of jealousy might help."

"You used Blanche to make me jealous—that was infamous! You led her on—and then, what did you do? You dropped her, without a thought for her feelings! That was not kind of you, at all!"

"Now, now, let's not be hasty! Some years ago, I held a Christmas party here at Thornfield. The Ingrams were among my guests; Miss Blanche, who was all of sixteen at the time, took a decided fancy for me. I was not interested in her then, and I am not interested in her now; but I have had the deuce of a time avoiding her continued attempts to ensnare me. I finally decided to meet the problem head-on by means of the recent party. I let loose a rumor that my wealth was not all that it appeared to be; that the estates were heavily encumbered by debts run up by my brother's gambling habits. In short, that I was not worth her time or trouble.

She departed since for the greener pastures of the London Season—there was an announcement in the paper a few weeks ago of her engagement to some young fool with a minor title and a reasonable fortune. Miss Ingram has consoled herself for her loss, never you fear."

Another chill ran through me—how could he be so duplicitous, was there no end to his deceit? How could I marry a man who lied so easily, and who made nothing of it? I recalled the painful scene at Lowood when I had been accused of being a liar. How that had hurt me—still hurt me!

"What is the matter with you—you are so pale—are you well?" He enquired anxiously, peering into my face.

"I think I would rather not go to Millcote today" I said, my eyes downcast, as I came to my feet and edged away from him.

"But Jane, your trousseau, your wedding clothes—we must order them soon if we are to have them in time."

"They won't be necessary."

"What, you're going to wear your Governess gowns all over Europe!"

"I'm not going to Europe."

He was by now becoming rather agitated by my resistance. "What is it that you are planning, Jane? I do not understand you at all."

"At this moment I do not understand you very well either," I cried. "How can you enjoy the deceit you used on Miss Ingram and justify it as a polite means of discouraging her? I cannot and will not condone it! Furthermore, that you thought it an expedient method to encourage my interest in you—that truly infuriates me! I am not a puppet to be manipulated by others—I am not a doll to be dressed up and played with for a while and then to be laid aside when I am no longer of interest and some brighter novelty offers itself to your attention. I am myself and I can fend for myself—I have no need of outside support."

"Very well, you are not a clinging vine, but a thorny thistle patch. What am I to do with you?"

"You can write me out a recommendation for Mrs. O'Gall of Bitternut Lodge. I will go to Ireland, not to Europe!"

He had the grace to look a bit embarrassed by my request. He looked down at the surface of the desk, shuffling the papers about as though he had no idea what they were. His face was a bit flushed, he had trouble meeting my eyes. "Jane, there will be a difficulty in doing that."

"Why?"

"There is no such person, I made her up!"

Deceit upon deceit, nothing but one deception after another—all trust in him was gone. It remained only for me to remove myself from his presence. I did so swiftly and decidedly, closing the door crisply behind me. I found myself face-to-face with Leah in the hallway. "Oh Miss," she said, "I was coming to look for you, there's a gentleman come to see you."

"Indeed," said I, "and who might he be?"

**That's all for now-if you want more-you'll have to let me know. Mwah haha!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A few thoughts on the subject of marriage and some further badinage. "Cliff" is still out there. Thank you, groupies, for your encouragement-it means a lot to hear from you-keep on with your pats and pans!**

Chapter 2

I was about to follow Leah down the hall when the Library door opened behind me. Mr. Rochester stood there—he gave me a fulminating glare—and almost hissing the words between his teeth, said, "Miss Eyre, if you please, our discussion is not quite finished." He stretched out his arm to usher me back into the room.

I held back, "If you please, sir—there is a gentleman waiting to speak to me."

"Is this someone you were expecting?"

I shook my head. He looked over at Leah who still stood suspended between coming and going. "Did this gentleman hand in a card and state his business with Miss Eyre?"

"Yes sir," She searched her apron pocket and produced a visiting card which she handed to me. "Sorry, Miss, I forgot about it."

I looked at the card which simply said **W. A. Briggs, Solicitor - Lincoln's Inn, London. **

I put the card away in my pocket and told Leah that I would speak to Mr. Briggs as soon as I had finished in the Library.

She gave a curtsey, and telling me that she had left him in Mrs. Fairfax's parlor, she hurried off to her duties, while I returned reluctantly to the Library.

He was waiting by the desk—the atmosphere had definitely cooled from our little stormburst of temper a few minutes earlier. I framed a few words of apology, "I am sorry for what I said, perhaps I was not fair to you. I do not always think before I speak."

He, in his turn, was gracious in his forgiveness. "Janet, I think perhaps this business of being 'in love' is more difficult than people understand it to be. There are so many strong feelings involved, it makes it hard to be sensible. I thought I was being generous, but you seemed to take it amiss. I believed I had been clever, but you condemned me for sophistry and a lack of concern for the feelings of others. It can be an uncomfortable business to see yourself as others see you.

"Dent was telling a story one night during the house party, we were sitting around the table after dinner, smoking and passing the Port around amongst us while the ladies were in the Drawing Room. He was telling about a fellow who was leaving his club one night in a rather 'elevated' condition due to the quantity he had imbibed during the course of the evening. So there he is rambling and teetering along when he espies a window behind which he can dimly see a great ape gamboling about. He is fascinated by this creature and gets closer to the window in order to see it better, and what d'you know—the ape comes up to the window in its turn. Naturally, he makes faces and rude gestures at the creature and the ape returns the favor by copying him to the letter. Right about then, along come some friends of his—Sir Boozely and Lord Boskey, and Boskey enquires-'What ho, Lushington, why are you making faces in that mirror?'"

I smiled in appreciation of his tale, I felt I should try to explain the strong reaction I had shown earlier.

"When I was a child newly come to Lowood, Mr. Brocklehurst stood me up on a stool before the whole assembly of pupils and teachers and repeated my Aunt Reed's falsehood that I was deceitful and a liar. This was later disproved and the accusation was retracted, but I have never forgotten what I suffered then. Perhaps you can understand better now my feelings on the issue of truth."

He muttered something to the effect that he would enjoy having a few private words with Mr. Brocklehurst at some future time. He then said, "To resume our previous topic—what is it you expect of me? I confess to curiosity—you do not seem to want the usual courtship prerequisites."

"I want an easy mind, sir—I don't want to feel that I am sinking under a burden of obligations. It makes me very unsettled to think that you want to make me over into some sort of fashionplate paperdoll. I could not be happy to be all show and no substance."

"I should know better than to try, I suppose. But I know there's more to this than a few folderols. I ask you once again, what is it you expect from me in our marriage? I think we should try to understand each other a little better than we have hitherto, therefore, speak—tell me—don't be shy about it."

"I don't think marriage should be based on the things you can _give_ me or the things you can _do_ for me. It should be on the basis of what you _feel_ for me and what I _feel_ for you. As a woman, I have a great obligation—not only to myself as a person—but also to any children I may have. The man I marry must be someone I can depend on through good times as well as bad. I don't want to commit myself to a person who takes the marriage vows lightly—someone who comes and goes and who is never around when he is needed. This is my whole future life, I must not be careless in my choice."

"That's quite a speech, my dear—you put me to shame. I confess you have touched on some aspects that I had not previously considered. I shall have to mend my careless ways where you are concerned. I promise I will try to do better." He held out his hand, "am I forgiven?"

I felt a great deal better, now that we had cleared the air. "I will consider the matter and return you an opinion—perhaps within the next fortnight." said I playfully.

He gave me a puzzled look, "Jane, what are you about?"

I tossed my head and smiled as I said, "You are on probation, sir—I intend to be very severe in my judgements upon you. Any infractions will be dealt with summarily..." My speech was cut off here as he ruthlessly laid hold of me and kissed me breathless.

"How much for that infraction, you little imp? I hope I made it worth your while," said he.

"That was very bold of you, sir."

"I am not known to be shy," said he.

"Neither shy nor backwards in taking action, I see."

There was a very satisfied look on his face as he returned to his original topic. "We still need to settle the matter of your wedding clothes, my fairy—shall we go to Millcote today?"

"I don't know—that gentleman is still waiting to speak with me. It must be important for him to have come all the way from London just to see me. I think I had better discover his purpose in seeking me out."

"Oh very well, have it your way. We can always go tomorrow." Somehow he had slipped his arms around me again—he was certainly persistent in his attentions. "Go see your visitor, but remember I await a report on his mission."

"Goodness!" I exclaimed in chagrin, "I had forgotten all about Adele, we should be at lessons now!"

"Never mind about her, I had already told her she could have a holiday today!"

"Some more of your high-handed behavior, I see—usurping my prerogatives as her instructress!"

"So many thorns on my little English rose!" he murmured in my ear as he gave it a tweak, "Get along with you then!" I fled to the hall and my mysterious visitor.

** Well, I gave you a nice hint as to who it might be-but as to what he has to say...even I do not yet know. Hee hee! Be seein' ya!**


	3. Chapter 3

AFTER THE STORM Chapter 3

**Some of your questions will be answered, but others are still out there is the misty land of "Cliff".**

I went into Mr. Fairfax' parlor with a great deal of curiosity and anticipation; how I wish now that everything had been different!

Mr. Briggs awaited me, but he was not alone; there were two other gentlemen with him, and one of them was Richard Mason; the other man I did not know.

They arose at my entrance—Mr. Briggs was a man of middle height, and of middle age—his dress was sober and respectable as befitted his profession. Mr. Mason was as I remembered him, handsome and a bit foppish in his choice of clothing and ornament. The third man was older and appeared to be in ill health—there was a shawl about his shoulders and he supported himself with a cane.

Mr. Briggs came forward, "Miss Eyre, you are Jane Eyre, are you not?" he enquired of me. I agreed that it was so. "Allow me to present myself, I am William Briggs, Solicitor, of London and these two gentleman have accompanied me here to Thornfield in order to speak with you on a matter of great importance. Mr. Mason you already know, of course, and this other gentleman is your uncle, John Eyre who has come from Madeira to make your acquaintance at last."

I stood there, completely taken aback: my Uncle John was here—standing before me—I had never hoped to see him. I stammered in surprise, "B-but I just wrote you a letter. H-how did you receive it so quickly?"

My uncle permitted himself a small smile, "My dear niece, I fear I have yet to receive your letter; I am here because my acquaintance, Mr. Mason, told me of you. I confess I had my doubts that you could actually be my niece, but now that I have seen you with my own eyes, I am convinced that it must be so. You are very like your grandmother in looks."

I was completely undone by his sudden appearance and unexpected reference to a relative I had never known. This had been a very emotional and surprising morning and I felt sure that there would be more to come. How right I was! "Uncle," I said, "I should like to talk with you further before we discuss any other business. Would you like to come out to the garden with me? The Sun is shining and it is much warmer outside than it is in here. We could sit out there and talk . I'm sure that Mr. Briggs and Mr. Mason will excuse us for a little while. Shall I order some refreshment for you gentlemen? I will be glad to do so." They were agreeable to my suggestion, and so I left them to Leah's tender mercies.

I found my Uncle a comfortable seat in a rose bower and sat down beside him. "Please," I said, "tell me about my parents, I have no memory of them at all, and no one would talk about them."

"Goodness, my dear girl, where should I start? There were three of us, you see: Mary, myself, and your father, James. Our father was a gentleman with a small estate, comfortably well-to-do, but not wealthy. My sister married a gentleman from the North and went to Yorkshire to live—she had a family—a boy and two girls—their circumstances were similar to my own family's-an old family, not much money.

"I, being the elder was to inherit the estate, and my brother—as is often the case with the younger son—was for the Church, which suited him as he was of a serious nature. All was well until he fell violently in love with a charming young lady. Her name was Jane Reed, and he was the curate at her parish church. Her father was totally opposed to the match because he had already selected a far wealthier suitor for her and my poor brother had little to offer beyond the church-mouse poverty that is often the lot of the clergy. Apparently the lack of funds was of no importance to her, for she dared to elope with my brother in broad daylight, if you please, straight to the border with Scotland and their matrimony was rapidly achieved. However, Romance must be paid for one way or another. Old Mr. Reed was furious with her, and cut her off without a penny, and never mentioned her name again. He passed away a few months later and left her brother in possession of Gateshead Hall and all that went with it."

I broke in here with an eager question, "Uncle, did you ever meet her? What was she like?"

"I saw her once after their marriage, she was a little thing, very lively in her discourse, and very much in love with my poor brother—they were obviously happy together in spite of their straitened means. A few months later, I learned that she was expecting a happy event—you, my dear. Their felicity was doomed not to last, because of the typhus that took them to their graves; but while they lived, they were content with each other, and with you—dear child."

I could not help it, I was weeping for the lost memories—the childhood that might have been different—the parental love and guidance that I had never known. My Uncle made a sound of distress as he handed me his handkerchief, "I do so wish now that I could have provided for you then, but it was not possible—I had so many financial difficulties at that time—nonetheless, I should have acted—as it was, your Uncle Reed took the responsibility out of my hands by taking you into his household.

"As for your Uncle Reed, I have no ill to say of him—he seems to have loved his sister very much—but he was not well and his wife was of a very unkind disposition. When your parents died in the epidemic, he had sent for you, apparently intending to raise you with his own children. Unfortunately, his early death left you without a protector in that household. Perhaps I should have stepped in then, and taken you out of that place, but my own circumstances at that time were very precarious, due to a failed investment.

"A few years later, when my fortunes were improved, I approached Mrs. Reed with the idea of seeing you and was told that you were away at school. Regretfully, I had no time at my disposal to go to Lowood and so, I was forced to leave the matter until a future time. When I found that my financial circumstances were greatly improved from what they had previously been. I wrote Mrs. Reed again, asking for your address as I wished to adopt you and make you my heir. Her reply dashed all my hopes to the ground—she said that you were dead, that you had died of the typhus at Lowood School. I see that she deceived me."

"My Aunt Reed disliked me intensely and was not above telling a falsehood or two if it would be to my disadvantage. My first weeks at Lowood were poisoned by the lies she told about me to the Director, Mr. Brocklehurst. Dishonesty is a thing I find hard to tolerate!"

"Dishonesty is a bad thing to deal with—like walking on thin ice—one is never sure of his footing."

I thought back to the heated argument I had had with Mr. Rochester that morning—my Uncle was right about that feeling of uncertainty, about the hesitation one feels in proceeding forward. Once again I felt that ominous chill run down my back—what was I getting myself involved in? Why had Mr. Mason and the solicitor come with my Uncle?

Just then Mr. Rochester was seen in the distance on the terrace, smoking one of his Havana cigars—he was sufficiently far away, that I felt no need to acknowledge his presence, nor he of ours. My Uncle gave him a look and remarked, "Did I understand that your employer's name is Rochester? Would that be Mr. Rowland Rochester?"

"No, Uncle, that is his younger brother, Mr. Edward Rochester-he is Master here at Thornfield since his brother's death some ten years ago."

"Peculiar, indeed are the workings of Fate," he murmured, almost to himself.

"Why do you say that, Uncle?"

"As I recall it, the suitor your Grandfather Reed had chosen for your Mother was none other than Rowland Rochester!"

This last statement left me speechless—to think that the man I was in love with might have been my uncle—it made me feel most unsettled. It was logical; after all, he _was_ twenty years older than I was and his brother would have been even older than he. Yet, it was a very difficult concept for me to assimilate.

"You do not look well, Niece, perhaps we should return to the house."

I rose, "Yes, I think we should go in now, there is a cloud over the Sun and it seems to be turning cooler, it may rain."

My Uncle smiled, The weather in England has not changed in my absence, I see—it was ever so—bright one moment and storming the next; rather like our lives, wouldn't you say?" and rising up from the bench, he offered me his arm to escort me back to the house.

**Yes, I intend to torture you with small nibbles of the events that caused this oddly assorted trio to appear at Thornfield!**


	4. Chapter 4

**In which a few issues are brought out-but there is still more to come. Incidentally, I think Mrs. Fairfax is being very generous with her Parlor.**

AFTER THE STORM Chapter 4

My Uncle accompanied me back to Mrs. Fairfax' parlor where we found Mr. Briggs and Mr. Mason in possession of a more than adequate tea tray. Cook had evidently outdone herself in the pleasure of providing for our visitors. My Uncle's eyes brightened at sight of the display, and I made haste to pour him a cup of tea and to arrange a little plate from the assortment before us.

I surveyed the little group, I decided to discover the purpose behind this odd confrontation. I turned to Mr. Briggs, "Sir, was there a legal matter you wished to discuss with me? I apologize for making you wait so long for my attention, but I assure you that I am ready to hear whatever you might have to say."

Mr. Briggs disclaimed any immediate need to speak, he indicated that he was present on behalf of his clients—Mr. Mason and my Uncle. "No no, I can assure you, Miss Eyre, that the matter is not mine to disclose. It must rather rest with my clients to reveal their business to you."

I turned to my Uncle and looked a question at him. He cleared his throat, "You are aware that I had written Mrs. Reed several years ago to offer you a home with me. The offer still stands, I would like to take you back to Madeira with me and provide for you when I am gone. You are probably not aware of this, but now that your Aunt Reed is dead, I am your Guardian. You are not yet of age."

Here was something I has not considered at all, I was not a free agent, I had a Guardian, my Uncle John Eyre. He would naturally expect to be consulted about any wedding plans I might be contemplating. Another question surfaced in my mind—what was my Uncle doing in company with Mr. Mason? How did they come to know each other? "Uncle, how does it come about that Mr. Mason is here? Were you previously acquainted with him?"

"Mr. Mason is a business associate of mine and has been ever since I arrived in Madeira some years ago."

"But I was given to understand that Mr. Mason is a resident of Jamaica."

"And so he is, my dear, but his firm imports wine to Jamaica and my business it is to supply it to him."

Mr. Mason here interjected the comment that my Uncle always gave them good rates and high quality. He went on to say that he always stopped at Madeira whenever the opportunity presented itself.

"Mr. Mason stopped to see me this Spring on his way home; he was still recuperating from the accident which he suffered while he was here at Thornfield. He told me that he had there met a young lady named Jane Eyre and he wondered if she might be a relative of mine. I was, of course, astounded by this piece of information, as I had long thought you dead and lost to me. I am glad to find that it was not so."

I swallowed the lump in my throat that had risen at the thought of his distress upon the false notice of my decease, and subsequent relief at hearing of my survival. I had been without a real family forever, it seemed; to think of the happy times I has lost because of Mrs. Reed's spite was painful. A different life would have been mine; indeed, I would not now be here at Thornfield; in love with Mr. Rochester; soon, perhaps, to marry him and be his wife.

"Perhaps you are not aware of the reason behind Mr. Mason's unfortunate visit here last April?"

"No, Uncle, I was led to understand that he was an old acquaintance of Mr. Rochester's."

"In a manner of speaking that is so. However, he did not come to see Rochester, he came to visit his sister."

"His sister? Has he a sister here in the neighborhood?"

"His sister is resident here at Thornfield—she, it was, who injured him."

I was totally astounded, "Mrs. Poole is his sister? B-but why...?"

"No, Miss Eyre," Mr. Mason said, "Mrs. Poole is not my sister, she is, rather, her attendant—my sister is, unfortunately, insane—this last time I found her in a very angry mood and she unleashed her fury at her confinement on me."

"You can well imagine my concern when I discovered that you were under the same roof as a mad- woman." my Uncle said, "I felt that it was of the greatest importance that I come to England to make your acquaintance, and to remove you from this dangerous situation."

"Yes, it pains me to say this of poor Toni, but the truth is that she has been known to escape her keeper from time to time—and then, there is no limit to the havoc she can cause," Mr. Mason said sadly.

My blood ran cold at this disclosure; had I finally discovered the origin of the fire in Mr. Rochester's bed chamber? Was this the answer to the strange sounds I heard from time to time? I hugged myself in reaction to these discoveries. Why had I not questioned more some of the unusual occurrences that had come to my notice? I chastised myself for inattention and credulousness. "I had no idea of this." I murmured.

"I wondered afterward just how much you were privy to, Miss Eyre. Rochester seemed to place great trust in your discretion."

"He told me very little indeed," I said. "I might have learned more, perhaps, but we had company here, as you will recall; and then I was called away to my Aunt Reed's deathbed."

"My condolences on your loss," said Mr. Mason.

"It was as well perhaps, given the circumstances—my cousin had done away with himself in consequence of the bad debts he had incurred—when my Aunt was told of his demise, she fell into an apoplexy from which she could not recover. The estate was heavily encumbered and had to be sold to satisfy the creditors. His sisters were left with very little, but they have managed to come about. All I got out of it was your address, Uncle, but that was worth everything to me."

"It means more to me than I can tell you, that I have finally discovered you, my dear," my Uncle said, as he wiped a tear from his eye. All these years thinking you were gone and here I see you before me..." he fell silent.

Leah came to the door just then, "Please, Miss, the Master is asking for you. Shall I tell him you are still engaged with these gentlemen?"

"No, Leah, I can speak with him now. Is he to be found in the Library?"

"Yes, Miss Eyre—he said that he would expect you there."

I turned to the triumvirate and told them that I would speak to Mr. Rochester before I brought them to his attention. Mr. Mason looked a bit nervous at this, but made no objection. I went forth.

**Those who know me will suspect that there is a twist out there-could be-yup, just could be! Mwah haha!**


	5. Chapter 5

AFTER THE STORM Ch. 5

**So, we progress on our torturous way through the pitfalls before us-whatever next?**

I stepped out into the hallway, and told Leah to say to Mr. Rochester that I would join him shortly. I stopped at one of the windows overlooking the rainswept Gardens while I tried to sort out my thoughts. My head was spinning from all the information that I had received this morning.

Firstly, and very importantly, I had discovered that my betrothed was capable of a great deal of dissimulation—not a characteristic that I particularly admired. He also had a tendency to be dictatorial; although he showed signs of being amenable to negotiation—in short, he could be "managed".

Secondly, I had a relative, my Uncle, who was showing a great deal of interest in me and my Future. He had also informed me that he was my Guardian; which meant that he and Mr. Rochester would have to talk about any future plans that Mr. Rochester and I might have together.

Thirdly, there was Mr. Mason's presence and his disclosure that his sister not only resided here at Thornfield, but that she was insane. She was probably the cause of the strange happenings I had been witness to. Why was she here, and not in Jamaica?

I sighed: it had been a very emotionally disturbing morning for me already—and it was not yet midday. Now I needed to explain Mr. Mason's and my Uncle's presence to Mr. Rochester—I could foresee some difficulties in the offing. Just then I heard foot steps, I looked around—Mr. Rochester, apparently grown impatient at my delay, had come in search of me.

He smiled when he caught sight of me, and it was _that _smile of his—that special radiance, too seldom seen. "Janet, there you are! I have longed so to have you in my sight, and here you are!"

It might have been raining out-of-doors, but I felt sunshine all around me. I am proof against all manner of storm and trouble; but I find it almost impossible to resist being loved—and loved I was. I knew it well when my eye met his—that radiant smile was my undoing! He drew me to one side-"It seems hours that I have been waiting to hear the results of your consultation with the person who came to see you. Was he the gentleman who I saw you with, out in the Gardens, a while ago?"

I nodded my head as I replied, "You saw me with my Uncle, John Eyre; he has come to England to make my acquaintance."

"Your Uncle?" he said, looking a question at me.

"My late Father's brother, he lives at Madeira—it seems that my Aunt Reed had told him that I was dead or I should have known him long since."

By now he had walked me to the Library—we entered and he took a seat next to me on the settee. I was not accustomed to having a man sit so close to me—he was very large and I felt very small next to him. He glanced over at me and chuckled, "You are blushing, Jane—why is that?"

"You are very close to me—I am not used to so much intimacy..." I bit my lip.

"This is only the beginning, little elf," here he took my hand and kissed each finger slowly along its length—finishing with the palm—folding my fingers over the last kiss. "Keep it safe." he whispered in my ear, "I'll be back to see if it prospers."

I felt the most delightful and astonishing tremor run through me when he said this—I had a sudden vision of him kissing me in many other places—I swiftly censored the thought—this was not proper behavior—whatever was the matter with me?

There was a most mischievous look on his face as he said, "You are redder than ever—are you well, my darling?"

Torment me would he—very well! "I see you have yet to attain your full maturity, sir. I believe that you are still one of those beastly lads who tease little girls until they cry!" I got up then and went to sit in an armchair.

"Cry 'pax'," he said, still amused, "I was never one of those!"

"One would never believe you, to hear you now," I was still annoyed with him.

"Oh very well, I'll try to behave—but I warn you, it's not easy!" Here he leaned back on the settee, crossing his legs, relaxing—yet not quite at rest. I had the sensation one feels when near a large, possibly dangerous animal—rather uneasy, yet thrilled to the core.

"We were speaking of your Uncle, were we not? You knew of him, but you had never seen him—is that correct?"

"Yes, Bessie Leaven, my old nurse at Gateshead, told me of him when she came to see me at Lowood, but she had no details about his address. It was not until I went to see my Aunt Reed on her deathbed that she gave me a letter he had written her some years before where he asked after me and indicated that he wished to adopt me and make me his heir. She confessed that she had told him that I was dead. I wrote to him as soon as I returned here, but had not expected an answer so soon."

"You said that he lives at Madeira? It _is_ rather soon for him to appear here. Are you certain that he is the person he says he is?"

"He has not come alone—he brought his Solicitor and a mutual acquaintance with him."

"A mutual acquaintance? Who the deuce might that be?"

I was hesitant to mention the name, I remembered well Mr. Rochester's reaction on a previous occasion—at least he was sitting down. "It is Mr. Mason, sir," I said.

He paled, I saw him swallow, he muttered something in an undertone—his fists were clenched—he rose suddenly—paced about the room—went to the rain streaked window and looked out for a while."May the Devil take him and all his tribe," he exclaimed! "How does he come to be here, and I was not informed sooner of his presence in this house!"

"I believe it was Leah who answered the door, sir. She may not have recognized him from before. The card she handed me was from the Solicitor, Mr. Briggs. I, myself, was rather taken aback when I realized that I had not one, but three gentlemen to deal with."

"Very well, that explains one point in the matter. I still fail to understand Mason's role in this."

"It seems that he is acquainted with my Uncle John; they do business together. Mr. Mason stopped in Madeira to see him while on his way back to Jamaica, and mentioned to him the coincidence of having met a namesake of his in England—he was referring, of course, to myself. My Uncle was pleased beyond measure at this information, as he had long thought me dead-due to a lie he had been told by my Aunt Reed. He determined then to come to England to see me and asked Mr. Mason to accompany him in support of his story."

"You believe it to be true, then."

"I can find no logical reason to doubt it. One further thing, sir, this will complicate our affairs somewhat, I fear."

"How so?"

"He is not only my Uncle—he is my Guardian. I am certain that he will expect you to apply to him for permission to marry me."

"Deuce take it all! Knots and tangles, rocks in the rapids, ice on the causeway! Is there no end to it all! I suppose I'll have to deal with your Uncle, and your Solicitor, and-let us not forget-my dear old friend, Richard Mason of Spanish Town, Jamaica!"

**I hope you have noticed that some subjects have yet to surface to the full light of day. But, when they do -mwah haha!**


	6. Chapter 6

**In which there is a general discussion and the introduction of Gothic elements.**

AFTER THE STORM Chapter 6

Somewhat irritated—as I could tell from his outburst-Mr. Rochester turned to me, and enquired, "Have you told your Uncle about our Wedding plans?"

"Oh no, sir, I have not even told Mrs. Fairfax—it seemed to me that the announcement was yours to make."

"Amazing! Any other young lady would have been trumpeting the news from hill to dale, but no, _you_ are the exception—as always! My thanks for your discretion—it will make matters easier."

"Mr. Mason said something that puzzled me..."

Mr. Rochester's face changed as I said this, I could see that he was apprehensive. His voice was very level, very controlled; yet I could tell that he was withholding some strong emotion. "What was it that he said, Jane?"

"He said that his sister lives here at Thornfield—when I asked if he meant Mrs. Poole, he said that Mrs. Poole was his sister's caretaker; that his sister is mad. I was very surprised..."

He cut me off with a sweep of his hand and turned away again—I could see that he had no wish to discuss the matter. "Perhaps the time has come—at last..." He sighed and lapsed again into silence. "Very well, Janet, I promised you the truth, didn't I? Call the gentlemen in, and let's get this over with, once and for all!" He rang and Leah once more presented herself at the door, Mr. Rochester looked at her in puzzlement, "Where are all the menservants today?"

"Please sir, they're all out in the grounds, helping the gardeners clear up from the storm we had last night." She was twisting her hands in her apron.

"In this rain?"

"The roof over the stables is leaking, sir—they are trying to repair it."

"I should have been told of this-"

"I believe you were occupied at the time—John thought it best to lose no time in the repairs."

"Hmph! Nonetheless I should have been informed. Oh never mind! Go, and fetch the gentlemen from Mrs. Fairfax's parlor.."

"All three of them, sir?"

"Yes, indeed, all three!" He said this between his teeth, striving not to lose control of himself. Leah disappeared as though by supernatural means—no doubt intending to absent herself from her master's ill temper. I wished I could do the same, but unfortunately, I was the centerpiece in this little drama. I sat stoically in my chair, waiting for the next act to take place. Mr. Rochester had recourse to the Brandy decanter while we waited for the rest of the players to take the stage.

They were soon at the door: my Uncle, his Solicitor and Mr. Mason, who entered last and rather hesitantly. He looked in Mr. Rochester's direction and visibly wilted at his exasperated expression. He sat down at a little distance from the rest of the group. Mr. Rochester noticed this and called out, "Bring your chair closer, Mason—I can barely see you, much less hear you over there in the corner—get closer man, I won't bite!" Thus adjured, Mr. Mason timidly drew his chair near. Mr. Rochester looked him over, and said, "Well, Dick, you seem to be feeling much better than the last time I saw you—here, have some Brandy—that ought to stiffen your backbone!" He presented him with a glass of the amber liquid and turned to his other guests.

I said, "If you please, I would like to introduce to you my Uncle, John Eyre of Funchal, Madeira, and his Solicitor, Mr. Briggs of Lincoln's Inn, London. Gentlemen, this is my Employer, Mr. Edward Fairfax Rochester of Thornfield Hall and Ferndean Manor." Acknowledgements were made and the gentlemen took their seats. Mr. Rochester offered them refreshment also, but was declined.

Mr. Rochester addressed my Uncle, "Mr. Eyre, it is my understanding that you had given your niece up for dead, due to some erroneous information you received."

"Yes indeed, I was entirely misled in the matter. I had long wished to provide her with a home and some sort of inheritance to make up in part for the loss of her parents. I was able to offer her nothing at the time of her parents' deaths, being myself without home or funds. Then a few years ago, my fortunes finally improved; but when I made inquiry after her, I was told..." Here he stopped, unable to continue.

"I understand that it was Richard Mason here who told you of her existence."

"It was indeed, I was most gratified to have my prayers answered at last!"

"Just so—the answer to your prayers..." here he left off, stood up, and paced restlessly about the room, "Jane tells me that you are her Guardian now."

"Yes, Mr. Briggs has the papers here with him. I hope to take her back to Madeira with me and give her the sort of life she ought to have had; if things had gone differently all those lost years ago."

Mr. Rochester stopped in his track and looked at my Uncle, "You wish to take her to Madeira?"

"Oh yes, I am not well; the English climate is unkind to those who suffer from my complaint. The doctors give me only a few more years—I would like to spend that time with my niece. The climate in Madeira is more benign than this damp and cold."

"I am a bad host, indeed! I should have noticed that you were chilled! Allow me a moment here to mend the fire! Dick, are you warm enough—perhaps you should come closer to the hearth?" Mr. Mason took advantage of the offer and brought his chair to the fireside. I noticed that the Brandy glass that Mr. Rochester had given him was empty.

The mantel clock struck the hour, Mr. Rochester glanced at the time and rang the bell. John came to the door this time; I saw that his hair was still wet from his labors out of doors. "John, how go the repairs?"

"All right and tight, sir, but there's another problem—the river's come up and there's no passing the bridge to town—and there's another thing, sir, my old Dad is complaining about his rheumatism something terrible."

"That's the weather forecast speaking, isn't it? He's better than a barometer!"

"Aye, sir, I've never known him to be wrong—I'm thinking there will be several more days of this."

"What about the other road—the high road?"

"There's several trees come down across that one—t'will be a day or two before it can be cleared."

"Gentlemen, I fear you will be obliged to break your journey here. I will have rooms prepared for you and John will see to your luggage. John, please tell Cook that there will be five of us for Luncheon."

"Aye sir, it will be ready at half of the hour."

"Very good." He dismissed John, and turned to me, "Jane, you will join us for the meal, of course."

"Oh no. sir, I should not..."

"Nonsense! You wish to spend time with your uncle, do you not?"

I took him to one side and pleaded with him in an undertone, "Please, you know that I am not accustomed to dining with you. Besides, I have not spent any time with Adele this morning and there are things I should be doing. I'm certain that Mrs. Fairfax will need my help now that we have company."

"You argue your case well. I will give you leave to be about your affairs for now; but know that I expect you to join us later on, after Dinner this evening."

"Yes, of course." I went quickly out the door, intent on making my escape. I could hear his jovial announcement as I left the Library.

"Are you gentlemen fond of Gothic novels? I believe we have the ideal situation here—travelers stranded by a storm in a gloomy castle..."

**Ah, those disclosures-how they hang out there! Mwah haha! Perhaps I should have Bertha get loose and do mischief-what do you think? Any votes?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Awright-here's a little "Nightmusic" just for those who appreciate these things. I left out the blood-sucking vampire bats-I didn't want to get too carried away!**

THE MORNING AFTER Ch 7

I went to the schoolroom; Adele was not there, I could hear her with Sophie in the Nursery, they were playing some sort of singing game. I decided not to disturb them just now. Instead, I sat at my desk and I thought about the morning and its events.

Everything had begun so well—a beautiful sunny day—a few joyous moments with Mr. Rochester, and then things had taken a downturn when we had had that argument. Then the appearance of the three men—one of them the Uncle I had longed to know. That had made me both happy and sad—happy to have found each other—sad that it had taken so long. The weather had echoed the mood of things, turning dark and stormy once again.

Mr. Rochester's mood had been odd also—almost at one with Nature. There was some disclosure that seemed to hang on a wisp of air, now it wafted near, then it floated away, borne upon the slight breeze, light and fragile as a falling leaf. It was something to do with Mr. Mason's sister, I suspected. I rested my head on my arms on top of the desk—I slept.

Some time later, I woke—there was a hand caressing my hand where it rested on the desktop. I looked up into Edward's face—he looked concerned. "You were sound asleep, my darling—I hesitated to wake you; but Mrs. Fairfax tells me that you took neither Breakfast nor Lunch today. I don't want you to get ill—so I have brought you a tray. Besides, your neck is going to ache if you persist in sleeping all bent over like that."

He was right—I heard a few popping sounds as I straightened up. The bowl of soup on my tray was sending out a siren song of succulence—my stomach made a very impolite sound in response. Mr. Rochester chuckled, "I see that Mrs. Fairfax was right. You _are_ hungry." He arranged a napkin around my neck and placed the tray in front of me. "Mademoiselle est servie! Voila!"

I made short work of his timely offering. It was indeed just what had been needed. He told me then that my Uncle had taken to his bed, and was not expected to make an appearance until the morrow. It seems that his travels, combined with the effects of the foul weather, had taken their toll of his energies.

Mr. Briggs and Mr. Mason were resting also.

"I think we will forgo the Drawing Room for tonight," he said, "I have Pilot to keep me company—he's not much for conversation and he tends to snore, but no matter—I shall make do. I saw that yawn you were trying to conceal—off with you, and get some rest!" He kissed my cheek and ushered me out the Schoolroom door—only leaving me with another longer kiss as we stood outside the door of my bedchamber. "Until tomorrow, Janet."

"Until tomorrow," was my echo as I closed my door and bolted it against the phantoms of the night.

I lay in my bed and listened to the storm outside—it was a very impressive work of Nature; shrilling winds, lashings of rain against the house, pyrotechnics in the skies, the drumrolls of thunder echoing back and forth—and there were other sounds, a dog howling somewhere in the distance, the semi-rhythmic banging of a shutter, the drip and hiss of raindrops coming down my chimney and expiring steamily in my fireplace.

I felt very cozy in my covers and not at all inclined to rise; even when I heard someone try the latch on my door. There it was, it rattled again, but I had bolted the door, had I not when I went to bed? Of a surety I had, but I called out, "Who's there?" even as I had upon a previous occasion. No one answered me, but there was a scuffling sound in the corridor—and I heard Pilot's warning growl. Apparently he had been sleeping by Mr. Rochester's door. There were hurried footsteps, the sound of a door opening and closing and a series of short sharp barks from the dog.

There were other sounds from the corridor—the gentlemen had been disturbed by the dog's racket. I heard Mr. Rochester's voice, "It's nothing I'm sure (Down Pilot! Hush!)-but I'll take a look around just to be certain." He came to my door and knocked, "Are you all right, Jane?" I answered in the affirmative. I heard him go down the hall; on his return, he paused once again outside my door and I heard his words to the dog, "Pilot, stay here—guard!" There was a whine from Pilot and the sound of a large body against the door as he lay down, I heard a whiffling sound as Pilot sniffed about under the door and then silence. Mr. Rochester had moved off—I heard him going upstairs-and then I settled back to sleep, lulled by Pilot's soft snores outside my door.

Some time later, I was awakened suddenly by a terrific commotion. Sounds of struggle, shouts, the dog barking outside my door combined to put an end to my slumbers. From the look of the dripping sky outside my windows, it was not quite Dawn. I rose and hurried into some clothing; covered all deficiencies with a shawl and ventured to open my door. The faithful dog was still where Mr. Rochester had ordered him—directly in front of my door.

The other gentlemen were out in the hallway, milling about in confusion. I fetched a light from my room and joined them. I could see my Uncle and Mr. Briggs, but where were Mr. Mason and Mr. Rochester? Pilot had risen from my threshold and was standing alertly next to me. I could see Mrs. Fairfax and Sophie in the distance; Adele clutching her Nurse's hand.

The door to the third floor stood open; I hesitated to think what might be going on up there. Then we heard someone barefooted running down the steps, pursued by several other people wearing shoes. An extraordinary sight met our eyes.

**Yes, this is where I resume my evil love affair with "Cliff", I can never resist his allure. Seeya later-Mwah-haha-haha! }:-[ **


	8. Chapter 8

THE MORNING AFTER Ch 8

Coming down the third floor staircase, a confused mass of people erupted into the hallway in a cacophony of sound; at the same time as a tremendous thunderbolt struck somewhere close by. It was hard to tell which caused more sensation at the time. Was it the lightning strike which had shaken the house, or was it the singular appearance of the raving creature in our midst?

A lightning flash briefly illuminated the assembled company; in our midst I could see the undoubted haunter of Thornfield Hall. A woman, it seemed to be: tall, garbed in some sort of disordered gown, with long tangled dark hair. Her face was the most fearsome part of her, by reason of the savage expression it held. There were stains on her dress—I scarcely wished to contemplate their nature. There were sounds coming from that distorted mouth; I was suddenly struck with the understanding that this poor wretch _was afraid, _yes, afraid of the storm raging overhead, and afraid of _us_.

By now, Mr. Rochester and Mr. Mason had caught up with her, Mr. Mason ventured to take her by the arm—she shook him off. "Toni," he said, "It is I, your brother, Richard, do not be afraid..." She pushed him away with some force—she was very strong—he staggered and nearly fell.

Mrs. Poole, who had been the last of the group to come down the stairs, went up to her and spoke to her soothingly. She took her to one side, saying-"'Tis all right Missus, there'll be no harm done, come you away with me and I'll see you safe to bed."

She received little response to her efforts—the mad woman seemed to be lost in the labyrinth of her fearful mind. She kept repeating a word new to me, "Hurricane," she said, "Hurricane!" Then she began to wail—it was a shrill, pitiful sound.

Mr. Rochester looked at Mrs. Poole with a significant glance and made a cradling motion with his arms, "Where is it?" he said. Mrs. Poole took his meaning and scuttled back up the stairs. She returned soon with a tattered bundle in her arms. She was crooning to it as though it were alive.

"Here Missus, look—I've found your poppet all safe and well!" She had succeeded in getting the lunatic's attention. "See, 'twas only afraid of the storm, wasn't it—the poor little thing!" She went over to the mad woman and offered her the little effigy, "Wants his Mama, yes he does." The bundle was snatched from Mrs. Poole and closely inspected, then clutching it close to her, our dark-of-the-night apparition was led away, still whimpering softly.

Mr. Rochester gave the startled company a comprehensive glance, "My apologies for the disturbance, Ladies and Gentlemen, I believe you may all return to your rest now. The storm seems to be moving away, so it should be quieter now. We will speak further on these happenings later today." He stopped by me, bent to praise Pilot for his care of me (Pilot had stayed between me and the apparition the whole time—growling softly) he ruffled the dog's ears, smoothed the upstanding hackles on his neck and reinforced his command to 'Guard' me.

I looked about; Mrs. Fairfax, Adele and Sophie had all disappeared back to their rooms. My Uncle and Mr. Briggs were in low-voiced consultation as they did the same. Mr. Mason had vanished at some point in the proceedings. I retreated also, closing my door, throwing the bolt, and hearing Pilot thump down in front of it. The scene outside my window showed a landscape running with water under a dripping sky. It was still raining persistently, but the worst of the storm had moved off—I could still hear a rumble and see a flash in the distance.

I lay back down on my bed—my mind in turmoil—so many question unanswered: Why was Mr. Mason's sister here? What had caused her condition? What had Mr. Rochester to do with it? And last of all, but rather troubling to me—Why had he not announced our engagement? He had seemed relieved that I had not told Mrs. Fairfax or my Uncle of our plans. What could his reasons be? At some point, my tired mind gave up the battle—and I fell asleep.

When I woke some hours later, all was quiet—I could see out my windows that a feeble sun was trying to break through the heavy clouds, but it was an unequal struggle—the sunlight succumbed to the superior strength in numbers of the clouds—one wavering, watery ray of sunlight touched my window, highlighting the raindrops on the glass, and was abruptly withdrawn. We were in for another gloomy day.

I rose, in my looking glass I could see my hastily assembled outfit donned for the late-night alarm. I shook my head a the weird assortment and promptly proceeded to mend matters. Once restored to my usual neat attire—I opened my door—Pilot was still there, looking up at me, his tail thumping on the matting. "Well," I said, "I must presume that you are glad to see me. Shall we go and find something to eat?" The dog rose, stretched—yawning as he did so, and closely followed me downstairs.

I saw Mr. Rochester in the Hall as I came down the stairs. "Good morning," said he with a smile.

"Yes," said I, "It seems to be a good morning—what's left of it anyway."

One of his eyebrows quirked, "A bit testy today, after all the uproar last night?"

"I'll be better after I have something to eat. Call off this beast of yours, please, I feel as though he was attached to me somewhere."

A chuckle escaped him, "Pilot, (clicking his fingers) Heel!" The dog promptly transferred his attentions to his Master. Relieved of my canine attendant, I quickly escaped to Mrs. Fairfax' Parlor and Breakfast.

-xxx-

It was later that morning that we were informed that our conference with Mr. Rochester would have to be deferred until the evening; as he had been obliged to go out on the estate to evaluate the storm damage. I saw him from the courtyard window; mounted on one of the farm horses—a big solid-looking beast, well able with its great feet to avoid sinking into the mud, as a smaller steed might have done. I watched him ride away with John and some of the other men. It was like an echo of some past occurrence- the Lord of the Manor riding out with his men upon some errand. I believe they intended to see how passable the roads were and what work would need to be done to repair them. They were followed by a heavy cart full of tools and other necessities for road mending and tree cutting.

I decided that it was time that Adele was recalled to her lessons, and so we spent the day on our studies. She was very curious about the woman she had seen in the hallway, but I told her that I had no more idea than she as to who the person might be. "But I have seen her before, Mademoiselle, one night a long time ago, when I first came here. Sophie saw her also—Sophie was afraid—but I was not."

I changed the subject, and no more was said. After Lunch, I felt the need for a rest, due to my disturbed night, so I retired to my room for a while. I reflected that I had not seen my Uncle all day and so I presumed that he was still recovering from the effects of last night's excitement. A few hours of quiet were sufficient to restore me.

I went in search of Mrs. Fairfax to see if I could be of aid to her. I found her in her Parlor, peering through her spectacles at some lists. "Oh my dear, you are just in time to help me—what is this word here—I cannot make it out (so vexing, really)." I pored over it and confessed that I had no idea what it might be either. "Tcha!" and she threw the list down—"perhaps I'll remember later!" I reiterated my offer of assistance, and she rose and swept me into the Stillroom, where we spent some little time in sorting herbs and labeling jars. Before I knew how much time had passed, we were being called to Tea.

-xxx-

That evening, Mr. Rochester called the four of us to the Library. He apologized for his absence during the day and announced that the high road was almost cleared of storm debris. "I am sorry that this meeting has been so much delayed, but here we are now. Please be seated. I imagine you have some questions concerning what you experienced last night. That woman you saw is Richard Mason's sister—Bertha Antoinetta. She is, unfortunately insane, and also unfortunately, there are those who would call her my wife."

A profound silence fell when he spoke these last words. I didn't know what to think—no wonder he had not wanted to announce our betrothal. What was I to think of all those words, kisses, embraces—the promises he had made to me? I was totally bewildered.


	9. Chapter 9

**Here comes some of what you've been waiting for, but-you know me-it's not ALL OF THE STORY!**

THE MORNING AFTER Ch 9

There were several reactions to this announcement of his. I said nothing, but my Uncle and Mr. Briggs were talking quietly and Mr. Mason was cringing in his chair. Mr. Rochester gave him a quelling look, "Dick, I'll not hear a word from you—not one! You never spoke up when you might have, you simply went along with the whole dirty, sordid plan from beginning to end!"

Here we were interrupted by Sam as he brought in the after dinner coffee and wine.

At last we were all established by the fireside: my Uncle, Mr. Briggs and Mr. Mason; as well as Mr. Rochester and myself. The gentlemen were made comfortable with coffee cups and wine glasses according to their preference. I was content with my fragrant cup of coffee and I could see that Mr. Rochester was equally at ease with a glass of wine.

He finally spoke: "I think that I am going to tell this as though it were a story—something that might have happened once upon a time. Perhaps it happened to me, perhaps it was another person entirely—indeed, there are times when I wonder about the sequence of events and ask myself how could these things be?

"It seems that there was once a wealthy gentleman who had two sons; the elder was the apple of his eye and could do no wrong, while the younger was a graceless scamp—always into mischief, but good of heart in spite of it all. In the fullness of time, these young gentlemen went away to school. They were both intelligent fellows, but the elder was less inclined to apply himself to his studies. The younger brother, well aware that he would have to make his own way in the world, worked very diligently at his lessons.

"Their father had long ago decided that he would not divide the estate between them; so the question arose of how to provide for his younger child. Normally in such families, the choice would be Church or Army; but the cessation of the War on the Continent made the Army less worthwhile than it had been and he doubted that his younger son's temperament suited him for the Cloth. There was only one other possibility then—an Heiress—yes, a young lady with a Fortune; it would solve the problem.

"So, the father made inquiries amongst his acquaintance and discovered at last the perfect solution. A man, with whom he had done business for many years in the West Indies, had a daughter with a generous dowry—30,000 Pounds. The father was well pleased with his discovery, and decided to waste no time in taking advantage of it. Accordingly, he sent his second son to the West Indies, ostensibly to look after some business the father had there, but actually to be married to the young lady.

"Oddly enough, this young man had no idea of the fate that awaited him—he was still young and rather green in the ways of Society and the World—having spent more time on his books than carousing about as many of his fellow-students had done. The young lady was presented to him, of course, and he found her very attractive, although rather elusive. He saw her at a distance usually, surrounded by other young people, very much in demand, very much the belle of the gathering. Somehow, within weeks of meeting her—he found himself marrying her—never quite sure afterwards how it had come to pass.

"Now, this is where matters take a serious turn—my apologies for some of the subjects I will mention—but when it comes to lies and the truth; lies are usually more attractive, but truth shines with a light of its own, which no falsehood can dim. So—the truth, it will be-(my apologies, Richard, I know I am speaking of your sister—but I have promised Miss Eyre, who sits here patiently, nothing less than truth).

"My Wedding Night with Bertha Mason was not what you might expect—it was certainly not what I had anticipated in my wildest imaginings. I made a momentous discovery that night—my Bride was already well advanced in pregnancy—about five months, as it later proved. There was no way in Heaven or Hell that I could have been the parent of that child—being that I would still have been on the other side of the ocean when conception took place. There was no question of sleeping with her, let alone cohabiting. I made it clear to her family what her condition was and made it known that I would seek an annulment. They raised all sorts of difficulties about it and did their best to prevent any action on my part.

"The true complication arose when I began to have doubts of her sanity. There were periods of violence when nothing could restrain her from attacking whatever person was in her vicinity. There were times of quiet when she would weep without ceasing. One never could be at ease around her for fear of what she might do next. Meantime, her pregnancy was advancing and the time came for her to be delivered of her child.

"What a hellish event that was—she was beyond all reason—screaming out the vilest epithets I had ever heard. Fighting tooth and nail those who tried to restrain her—at last we managed to give her a soothing draught and she quieted somewhat. Then it would begin all over again—finally we had to tie her down—and even that was hardly enough to restrain her. It took two days for the child to appear in this world—only for it to result stillborn. They showed it to me at my insistence—poor little blue thing—better that it never lived, never breathed—who knew what might have become of it otherwise.

"Bertha recovered physically fairly soon, but something had happened to her during those chaotic hours. When she asked for the child, we told her the truth, that it was dead. She seemed to accept this information, but then we would find her all about the place seeking her infant. She was persistent in her quest, but unsuccessful, of course. Finally, she lapsed into a state of melancholy from which no means could be found to bring her to reason.

"All this time I had been involved on a mission of discovery. I was not so naïve as to suppose that babies appear in this world without parents. I investigated the possible identity of the child's father. It took a long time and a lot of questions before I finally arrived at what seemed to be the answer. Bertha had had a longtime nursemaid turned ladies maid, named Delie—a woman from Martinique. Shortly before my arrival in Jamaica, she had been given a generous sum and had returned to her island.

"Delie, it seemed, had a handsome nephew named Cesar Villard. I was told that he had often been seen at the house until one day when he was gone; about the same time that his aunt had taken ship for Martinique. Further inquiry established that Cesar had not gone with his aunt—instead he had been drugged and put on a ship belonging to the Mason family—a ship now long on its way to China. I realized that it might be a long time before he would be able to return, if ever.

"During one of Bertha's few lucid periods, I had asked her about Cesar—she spoke at length about him—saying how she missed him, wondering what had happened to him, blaming me for coming between them—and insisting that he was her 'true husband'. This last statement of hers took me by surprise—_could it be so simple? Could it be that we were not actually married? _Unfortunately, I could discover no proof of her statement, and I was well aware that a madwoman's mutterings would have no validity in a court of law."

**I hope you liked this twist-more fun ahead, folks!**


	10. Chapter 10

** I was asked about the validity of my premise in saying that the marriage could not be annulled and implying that a divorce was not possible either. I will simply mention some well-known examples contemporaneous to this era-none of these gentlemen divorced their wives or were able to. 1. George IV could not divorce his promiscuous wife, Princess Caroline. 2. William Lamb, Viscount Melbourne did not attempt to divorce his mad and infamous wife, Lady Caroline Lamb. 3. William Thackeray, the well-known writer also had a mad wife-a cause of gossip when CB dedicated JE to him (CB didn't know about the wife). Evidenly it was not an easy process to go through and the way was lined with legal pitfalls (one type of divorce permitted remarriage, but made your children illegitimate!).**

**Anyway, on with the story.**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 10

Mr. Rochester paused for a few moments after this revelation. He got up, rang the bell, and when Sam came to the door, he asked him some question which apparently was answered in the affirmative. He turned back to us, his audience, "I see that last statement got your attention, it certainly got mine. When I discovered the identity of my wife's lover, (and the child's father), I was relieved—at last the shadow had substance—there was a real person, and his name was Cesar Villard.

"But the best was yet to come—Bertha had claimed him as her 'true husband'-what was I to understand by that? Were we or were we not actually married? I thanked the circumstances that had led me to keep her at a distance—our 'marriage' had not been consummated due to the presence of that pregnancy of hers. Richard, you look surprised—did you not know all this?"

Mr. Mason shifted nervously in his chair, "I knew that Villard was often about the place, but after all, he was Delie's nephew—it never occurred to me that there was more to it than that—I didn't know about the child."

Mr. Rochester looked a bit skeptical at this disavowal of culpability, "You are saying then that it was your Father who did this; who was aware of everything and said nothing, but who took action to prevent the knowledge becoming general."

"Yes, it was our Father—a hard man and secretive in his dealings—no doubt Delie told him of my sister's condition and everything followed from there."

"I allow that it could have been so—the old servant pensioned off and sent away at a distance, the young swain kidnapped and taken off to sea; these indeed, are things your Father could have done. And you had no inkling of this—none at all?"

"I grant you, I thought things were a bit odd—but I had no idea of the truth."

"Well, there you are—I wonder what dealings my own Father must have had with yours that would have caused this peculiar state of affairs. It seems almost like some sort of elaborate revenge-to leave me, the innocent party in all this, burdened with a wife of dubious behavior and a child of unknown origin."

"I never had much to do with Father and his business—he wanted me to be a gentleman and not to involve myself in Trade."

"Here Dick, have some more wine—maybe it'll serve you in place of that missing backbone of yours," Mr. Rochester said this with casual disdain. Mr. Mason sniffled a bit in his self-pity, but he took the offered glass, and sipped at it.

My Uncle had been watching this interchange with great interest, he nodded as though an idea of his had been confirmed. I realized that he, like Mr. Rochester, held a poor opinion of Mr Mason's character. My Uncle spoke then, "Mr. Rochester, this story of yours is very interesting, I'll grant you; but I scarcely understand why you are subjecting us—particularly my young niece—to these rather sordid matters. Just why are you 'washing your dirty linens' before us?"

"Mr. Eyre, I do apologize, I realize that a great deal of what I have told you is not in the best taste for a mixed audience; particularly one with a young lady present; but I assure you that there is no way for me to avoid this business of airing the family skeletons. It will all be clearer when I am done, and I think we'll all be the better for it."

My Uncle patted my hand and sighed. I could see that he wished himself far away from this place; back to his sunny island home where things were doubtless much pleasanter and more peaceful. He wanted to take me with him—did I want to go? That would mean leaving behind the person I loved most in this World. How could I leave Edward behind—he who had suffered so much in this unnatural marriage of his. A wife who was not a wife; a wife who was someone else's wife—perhaps. The whole business was so strange, I was not certain how I felt about it.

Edward addressed me then, "Jane, you are looking troubled—have I said too much—have I tired you? If so, I am sorry for it—if you wish, we could defer the rest for a later time. What are your wishes?"

"I would rather get it over with, if you please."

"Very well, Jane, it shall be as you wish."

My Uncle spoke up then, and said, "There's another thing I object to—why do you refer to her always as Jane? She should be Miss Eyre to you, anything less smacks of a lack of respect to my way of thinking, although perhaps you will think me old-fashioned."

"Not at all sir, I would never lack respect for your niece—it would be a grave error on my part, indeed I am certain that she would never hesitate to correct me on this point if she thought it necessary. You see, I have called her by her name ever since she saved my life—it is a mark of esteem, I do assure you—I count her as one of my few true friends."

"Ah, so that's the way of it." and here my Uncle gave Mr. Rochester a very penetrating look.

"But we are diverging from my tale: it would take days to tell it all—all the problems, all the details of my search for Cesar Villard, all the legal tangles and turmoil of my quasi-marriage, and all the other matters that influenced the chain of events.

"There were about this time, some very important events that took place back in England—I had written my Father the details of my marriage. I am not sure just how he received the news—apparently it brought on an apoplectic attack which he did not long survive. My Brother, Rowland, inherited the estate and promptly proceeded to enjoy it to the utmost.

They told me afterwards of the wild parties he used to host here: dissolute young men and loose women—the servants were shocked by the goings-on. At that time, it was impossible to keep a female servant on the premises—not a one of them would work here. My Brother's bad habits finally caught up with him-he and some of his so-called friends went steeple-chasing one night when the Moon was full. My Brother took a bad fall while trying to jump his horse over the Churchyard wall. They found him there—he had cracked his head against a gravestone—he was dead.

"I now had a new set of heavy responsibilities—I had to return to England to assume my place as Master of the Rochester estates. There were lands and people to consider, there were crops to be planted, there was money to be invested—and the decisions were mine alone to make. I was obliged to take Bertha back to England with me—she was my responsibility until it could be shown to be otherwise. That voyage was not a pleasant one—Bertha did not want to go to England, but she had no choice in the matter. She had to be where I could be sure that she was being properly cared for—not like those poor souls in Bedlam.

"Once arrived at Thornfield, I set about arranging things more as they should be. I engaged my distant cousin, Mrs. Fairfax, a recent widow of undoubted respectability, for my Housekeeper. I set about finding a reliable attendant for Bertha, I saw to it that all traces of my Brother's regime were cleansed away. I believe the whole Neighborhood breathed a sigh of relief at my improvements.

"I now had funds of my own to use as I wished—I was no longer tied to the financial whims of the Mason family—that fabulous dowry my Father had anticipated, had been doled out in small payments—literally, I think, '_whenever a ship came in'_. Financially, I was now independent of them—unfortunately, I was still responsible for Bertha.

"I determined that, failing to discover their marriage record; it behooved me to locate Cesar Villard—last seen being put on board a ship bound for the Orient. Unfortunately, the World is a vast place: littered with islands, profligate with ports, and there are many things that can happen on a ship at sea—storms, pirates, shipwreck, illness and injury. I persevered in my search—my agents looked at crew lists, talked to sailors in port, always seeking him. It appeared that Bertha's family knew of my actions and did their best to keep me from locating him. I would discover a trace in Oceania, hear of a sighting in the Sandwich Islands, receive a report from South America, someone would mention the Antipodes, another would write of Ceylon.

"This went on and on—in the meantime, I had brought my household into the best order possible—and I was still young; now that I had my own money, I wanted to go away and try to find some relaxation and entertainment elsewhere. I would not do as my Brother had, and foul my own nest with my dissipations—no, I went to Paris and I enjoyed the Social Scene in all its many varieties and vanities. There was a group of us, young men with money and social standing—we flitted about and frittered our funds away at cardplay and the theatres, went from party to party, country to country—always in search of amusement. The years went by, the luster and shine of novelty began to dim, my boon companions went in search of other goals—some of them actually married (perish the thought), and I found myself travelling alone.

"During my time in Paris, I had had a 'chere amie' who had left me in charge of her daughter, when she went on to 'the Elysian Fields'-I bought this little orphan to England, and to Thornfield, and instructed Mrs. Fairfax, my Housekeeper, to find a Governess for her. Miss Eyre advertised in the local newspaper and her references being found satisfactory, my Housekeeper hired her to teach my Ward English as well as the other necessary subjects. It is late—I think we should abridge this until tomorrow. Mr. Eyre are you sure you are well, you look very tired?"

My Uncle smiled slightly, "You tell a most entertaining story, sir. I have seldom heard a better—it reminds me of 'The Arabian Nights' although you are the wrong gender to play Shaharezad."

Mr. Rochester chuckled at this sally, "No indeed, put me down for some other role—Genie or Afreet."

"I think you do yourself a disservice—what better role than the Sultan of Baghdad?"

"You are too kind indeed, sir. Nonetheless, the time is late, and I have been up since an unmentionable hour this morning—and I suspect the rest of you are not in much better case. We will speak further tomorrow. I wish you all Good Night." With that he brought our long evening to an end.

I accompanied my Uncle up the stairs, as we paused at the door to his chamber, he asked me pointblank what the true state of affairs was between me and Mr. Rochester. "He speaks to you very familiarly and of subjects that no well-brought-up young lady should know about."

I was at a bit of a loss in how to answer him, "He has always treated me with respect, and has done me the honor of having faith in my ability to not tattle and prattle about every morsel tossed before me. On the contrary, he knows I will not reveal anything he confides in me."

"Does that mean then that there is something you are not telling me?"

"If it is not something he has given me leave to discuss—then I must keep my promise to him. I assure you that I have done nothing wrong, nor, I suppose, has he."

"Hmph! We'll just see about that—I do not like your involvement with this gentleman—this business of the wife is very strange. Did you know about this previously?"

"No, Uncle John, that I did not."

"Ah well, perhaps tomorrow will bring more clarity to this imbroglio. Good night, my dear." He went in and closed his door.

I started down the hallway to my own door, but I was detained by a hand that suddenly appeared from a darkened doorway. "I was beginning to think I would never have a chance to talk with you alone." It was Mr. Rochester, of course.

**And on that note-the story will continue later.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Lots of action, a minor explosion of wrath, a torrid dream, a useful morning's work-something for everyone? No? You want answers-hah!**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 11

I tried to pull away from him, "Please, it's very late and we should not be out here in the hallway where everyone might see us."

"You have a point there, my darling, so we will just adjust matters thus," and he tugged me into the room with him and closed the door.

"I don't think I should be in here alone with you," I said.

"How else am I to get a private moment with you?"

"I am not certain that we should be having private moments!" was my rejoinder. I was extremely put out with him—this business of a marriage that no one had known about did not sit well with me—especially when the man in question had asked _me_ to marry _him_ only a few days ago. "Just at what time in our relationship did you intend to share this information with me? Were you trying to take me for a fool—so blinded by love that I would not wonder about a few random details?" I could not help myself, at this point, tears were running down my face, and my throat had tightened up so that I could barely choke out the words, "Leave me alone!"

"Hush, hush now," he soothed me, "I _was_ going to tell you, but only consider, there has been no chance for me to talk with you, what with the storm and these gentlemen here. A few days ago, before all this happened, I finally received the news I had long hoped to hear—Cesar Villard has been located. His ship arrived at Bristol last week, my Agent met the ship and even now is escorting Mr. Villard here to Thornfield; were it not for the storm, he would already be here on the premises.

"I must admit that in my elation at hearing this long-awaited news, I lost my head a little and put the cart before the horse when I asked you to marry me. However, it was always my intention to tell you all—I just hadn't counted with having such a large audience for my confession." He looked rather ruefully at me, "Please, Janet, forgive me my hastiness in proposing to you—it's just that I'm so painfully in love with you—you can have no idea. When I finally held you in my arms the other night, and kissed you, and you returned my kisses, and your arms went around my neck so that we could be even closer together—I wished then that we were far away in a land where nothing else existed but the two of us."

I was glad that the room was dark, I could feel the burning blush that rose to my face at his words. I remembered it all—the perfumes of the orchard garden, the sweet song of the nightingale, the moonlight and the soft night breeze, his words of love and the joy that had filled me at knowing that my love was reciprocated. It was not something that could be easily forgotten nor the memory discarded so quickly. I put my hand out and touched his arm, "I think I will forgive you—after a while; just now I am very tired."

"It is unkind of me to keep you from your rest. Go to sleep, then and we'll see what the morrow brings. You _do_ realize that your intransigence the other day was fortunate. We would have been stranded in Millcote all this time had we gone shopping as I planned." He chuckled and planted a light kiss on my cheek as I passed by on my way to the door. "Minx! I'll warrant you'll keep me on my toes—I'm looking forward to it!"

There being no dignified response I could make to a remark of this nature, I departed in silence.

_The waning moon was shining in my window—I rose and looked around my room—the eerie silver light revealed an unfamiliar place. There were palm trees outside my window—their fronds were rattling in the sultry Tropical breeze. I went to the window and realized that it was more than a window—it was a door which was half-open. I could hear the swish and roar of the ocean tide coming in. I walked out into the Garden, the rhythmic song of the cicadas and the peeping of the tree frogs gave a counterpoint to the ocean's sighs._

_I saw someone standing in the shade of the trees—I knew his outline as well as if I could see him in full daylight. He beckoned to me and I ran gladly to meet him—in a moment I was in his arms and he was kissing me. It was then that I realized that the face I saw was a stranger's face, and that I had no clothes on._

I woke suddenly in my own room, decently clad in my nightdress—terribly embarrassed at the vagaries of my unconscious mind. The sun was finally shining after the last few days of gloom—I arose, ready to meet the morning. The view from the window showed a landscape running with water as the accumulation of the last few days drained away from the roofs and terraces. There were puddles and mud everywhere to be seen and the flowers that had been beaten down by the constant downpour of the last few days were barely starting to rise again from their soggy parterres. I looked forward to going out soon, once it dried up a bit.

I went down to Breakfast with Adele, and saw Mr. Rochester once again riding away with his work crew. They were undoubtedly off to finish up their task from yesterday in clearing the road. The reason for the urgency in their doing so came to me as I recalled what he had told me last night. He was expecting his Agent to return from Bristol with the mysterious Cesar Villard. He had waited a long time for this meeting—some fifteen years—I prayed all would be well.

Mrs. Fairfax was bustling about, muttering to herself about the difficulties in housing so many people during such bad weather. I was rather surprised at this as I would not have thought that the three extra gentlemen would have caused such a disruption in her routine. "Oh no, my dear, they're not the problem. It's the cottagers from down by the brook—goodness knows the Master's been after them for years to move out of that nasty damp place of theirs, but budge they would not! Now I'm thinking they'll have no choice."

"Surely he would never just put them off the land! Where would they go—not to the factories, I hope!"

"No, never that, nor would they be on the Parish as some would do. No, he just wants them to have a better home in a dryer location—they've no choice now but to heed him. A cottage in such a place as that one was is an invitation to disease—it puts the whole village in danger. In the meantime we've got them here, with the children underfoot."

"Perhaps I could help with the children, Mrs. Fairfax, we could play some games, maybe."

"There's a good thought, they'll be down in the Servant's Hall at this time of day."

As soon as Adele and I finished our meal, we went in search of this family. The rest of the day was spent in entertaining the children and finding ways for the older members of the family to distract themselves from thoughts of the disaster which had overtaken them. Adele enjoyed having the company of children her age—it occurred to me that the poor child never had the opportunity of playing with other children. What a lonely little girl she was; it did me good to hear her laughter.

Sometime in the afternoon the men returned from their work. It turned out that the husband of the family and his older son had been in the work party. He came into the Servant's Hall greatly pleased with the way things were going. "Hey, Wife, did I not tell you—look at the silver he's given us for our work these last days! He says that they were able to salvage some of our goods and furniture and that we're to have a better place on higher ground with our own well! In the meantime, we're to stay here until it's built. I told you he'd see us right—the Master's not like some I could mention!"

I asked if Mr. Rochester had returned with them. "No Miss, he's went off with some foreign gentleman we met with out there while we were clearing the way."

It was time for Tea, I collected Adele and we went off to Mrs. Fairfax' parlor once more. "Oh thank you so much for keeping those children occupied, that was such a help. Dear me, I wonder what could be keeping Mr. Rochester—he has not yet returned."

"Mr. Fielding said that he had gone off with someone they met up with while they were clearing the road."

"Goodness, there's no telling when he will be wanting his Dinner."

"I'm certain he will send a message if he is detained." Having now finished our Tea, Adele and I escaped upstairs, I left her with Sophie and went in search of my Uncle.

**Yup, I did it again-oh "Cliff"-I love you so! Next chapter should solve most matters-although how can I be sure-I'm still writing it!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Here I resort to the animal kingdom for another viewpoint on the story-some of your questions will be answered, but it's not the end yet.**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 12

Oh, to be a bird—to be able to fly high over all obstacles—to observe without being noticed! The rook flew away over the roofs of Thornfield Hall into the morning light, it followed the little party of men as they went about their task for the day. They were clearing the road today as they had done yesterday. It was a great opportunity for grubs and insects of all sorts to appear and the rook was hungry. Soon, others of his brethren appeared—they made a noisy meal of it.

The bird was roosting on a beech tree when it saw the two riders approaching the work party. One of the workmen, the leader as it seemed, was chopping at a tree when they approached. He had shed his coat and waistcoat as well, and now in shirtsleeves, was engaged in lopping off the branches of a fallen tree. He looked up when the riders approached, and called out to them. "Mr. Burroughs, well met! Is that Mr. Villard I see?"

"It is indeed, Sir."

He put down his hatchet and put on his coat and vest, dusting his hands off and resuming his cravat with a look of impatience for the necessity of such a thing. One of the men stepped forward and adjusted it for him ("Thank you, John," he said), and stretching out his hand for it, put on his hat.

"So, you are Cesar Villard—I have waited a long time to meet you. I am Edward Rochester—it seems we have acquaintances in common—the Mason family of Jamaica. Will you ride with me?"

Cesar dismounted rather clumsily, and walked towards him—he was smiling broadly, "Mr. Burroughs, he told me that you were the boss-man when we were riding up. I told him not to be funning me, 'cause why would the Master be working so hard?"

"Ah, but it helps keep me warm, you see!"

"That's a good one, that is! Now tell me true, Mr. Rochester, just what business do you have with me?"

"I believe we have something in common, but before we discuss it, let's go down to the alehouse in the village and sit and be at ease."

"That sounds like a good plan, but no more horse for me today, if you please, sir. I'm a sailor, not a landsman. I walk funny enough ashore without being sore from the riding!"

This sally was greeted with an appreciative chuckle from Mr. Rochester. "I should have thought of that. Just a minute—I have to settle up with my crew before we go. Mr. Fielding, (giving him some coins) you and your son have been a great help today; we'll be working on your new cottage in a day or two, once it dries out around here. John will show you where we've stored the goods and furniture that were salvageable, you'll be staying at Thornfield until we can see you into your new home—be sure to tell your wife, I know she's been anxious." Mr. Fielding thanked him profusely. "That's all right man, good tenants like yourself are hard to come by."

He looked around him, "Mr. Burroughs, we're nearly done here—just this tree needs to be hauled away and the mess cleared up. I'll see you later up at the Hall. Mr. Villard and I have business to discuss. Oh yes, (to the work crew) there'll be a round of ale waiting for you at the 'Horse and Plow' tonight." They departed amid general good wishes from the men.

At this point, the rook (who had been preening itself) decided that it was time to depart also. As it flew away, it could espy the two men walking towards the village, while the rest finished clearing the road.

-xxx-

Now that we've had a birdseye view of things, let us consider the matter of being a fly on the wall—although, since flies have a relatively short lifespan—perhaps a catseye view would be better. We find ourselves at the "Rochester Arms", a fine inn and tavern run by a former servant of the Rochester family.

Mr. Rochester and his guest are in the private parlor which is also inhabited by a large, fat tabby cat. Cats are notorious for doing as they please and this one was no exception. When the men walked in and sat down, Puss had given them a long bored stare and had proceeded to wash herself most thoroughly. This important task completed, she had sought out a patch of sunlight and stretched herself luxuriously before lying down. A prolonged yawn displayed a fine set of teeth and a long pink tongue. This display of all her finer assets completed—she ignored her human companions-an occasional twitch of her striped tail being the only sign that she was aware of their presence.

"Are you comfortable now, Mr. Villard?"

"Please, sir, call me Cesar—when you say Mr. Villard like that, it takes me a minute to remember who you mean to talk to."

"Very well, but then you will have to call me by my name—Edward or Ned, if you prefer."

"No sir, I reckon it wouldn't be respectful for me to be doing such a thing."

"Yes, I know how it seems to you, but we have more in common than you might think."

"What do you mean by that, Ned?"

"Cesar, have you ever been married?"

"Yes sir, I was once, a long time ago, but her family didn't approve of the idea and so we kept it a secret-maybe that was a mistake. All I know is that I woke up one morning with a bad headache and found myself on a ship going to China. They put me to work as one of the crew, and that has been my life ever since."

"What happened to your wife?"

"I never could find that out—I asked around and someone said that she had married another man and that he had taken her away with him when he left Jamaica. I don't understand how she could marry someone else when she was married to me!"

"I am sure that the explanation is a simple one—perhaps she thought you were dead. After all, you suddenly disappeared. What was your wife's name?"

"Bertha Antoinetta Mason—her family always called her Toni—I did too."

"Cesar, you wouldn't happen to have proof that you married her—would you?"

"Oh yes sir, I do—I keep it with my other papers in this oilskin packet. We weren't married in Jamaica, you see—we went to Santo Domingo because I knew a priest there. Besides, it was easier to keep it secret that way—she was of age, so there was no difficulty about getting permission."

"All these years, all that searching—and the answer was that simple—*married in the Roman Church! Cesar, my man, the thing we have in common is—a wife!"

"You? _You_ married her? Why'd you do that, man?"

"I rather think it wasn't really my idea—it was her Father's plan—when he found out from Delie (your Aunt) that his daughter was 'in the family way', he lost no time in engineering his scheme. He told my Father, who, he knew, was in the market for a wealthy wife for his younger son, that he would dower his daughter to the tune of thirty thousand pounds. My Father fell neatly into the trap and sent me off to Jamaica post-haste to marry this heiress. Little did either of us suspect the truth until it was too late—the trap was sprung and there I was with a wife already pregnant—and not by me, of course."

"Man! You're saying there was a child—my child?"

"She was about five months gone when we said the vows."

"But what did you do—you didn't hurt her did you?"

"Never! I never laid a finger on her, not then, not ever. I never even slept with her—it would have been against my principles to do so."

"But then, what happened? Why didn't she tell you?"

"I think they must have done something to her—I don't know what exactly—her moods were variable. Sometimes she was very childlike, sometimes she was furiously angry, sometimes she just cried forever- there was never any way to really talk to her. A lot of what she said made no sense at all—it was almost impossible to find the truth amidst her many ramblings."

"My poor Toni! What happened to the child? You said there was a child!"

"Yea, a little girl—she was stillborn—poor babe!"

Cesar gave a cry of anguish and turned his face away—his shoulders shook—he hugged himself against the pain. Finally he spoke again, "The baby—what did you do with her?"

"Gave her Christian burial in the churchyard—she was innocent."

"Toni, where is Toni? How is she?"

"Cesar, this is difficult for me to say, but I have had to keep her locked up because of her unreliable behavior. The Doctors think that she is mad—insane—out of her mind. Myself, I'm not sure what to think, but it's true that after I told her that the baby was dead, she became quite violent for a while. We were even afraid that she would try to do away with herself."

"I must see her, try to talk to her, perhaps she will listen to me."

"I should tell you that I have guests up at the Hall. Her Brother, Richard, is here and there are two other gentlemen as well. Perhaps you would rather stay here tonight and rest, and I can send a carriage for you tomorrow so that you don't have to ride a horse. Please feel free to order your Dinner to suit yourself—you are my guest here just as though you were in my home."

"Thank you very much Ned, I've got a lot to think about, and Richard Mason is not someone I care to see just now. I'll come up to the Hall tomorrow."

"Very well, I'll send the carriage for you at nine in the morning—will that do?"

"That will be fine." The cat had meantime made herself comfortable in Cesar's lap—purring away in feline contentment—while he smoked his pipe. It made a charming picture of domesticity. On that note, Edward left the inn.

*The reference to the Roman Church meant that they were married by a Catholic priest, not an Anglican-and in another country. So it would be a separate set of registers and record keeping-making it harder to locate if one didn't know where to look.

**I hope that cleared things up a bit. We still have to resolve some other matters. What will happen when Bertha and Cesar meet again? Will she kiss him or try to kill him? Many thrills ahead-perhaps.**


	13. Chapter 13

**For those who love banter-this chapter is mostly banter-enjoy!**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 13

I had spent a busy day, entertaining the children, talking with my Uncle, and now it was Evening. The men had returned from their work hours ago and Mr. Rochester had finally come home from wherever he had been. He had returned alone, without his mysterious visitor, and was now at Dinner with my Uncle and the others—his Agent, Mr. Burroughs, had joined them for the meal and I could hear the jovial sounds of laughter and conversation coming from the Dining Room.

The terrace was now dry enough for me to go out for a little air. Several days of being closed up in the house had been enough for me—the outdoors beckoned, and I slipped out the door to revel in the evening and its delights. The flowers were reviving from being bent low by the past downpour, and I could hear the sleepy chirping of the birds as they tidied themselves for slumber. I wandered back and forth for a while on the terrace, as the lower gardens were still too wet for me to walk their paths. Finally, I took a seat and lapsed into aimless reverie.

A foot crunching on the gravelled walk alerted me to another's presence—I looked up, it was Mr. Rochester, evidently come to seek my company. "Good evening, sir," said I.

"Good evening, Janet darling, how long, I wonder, will we be married before you call me 'Edward'?"

"You are nonsensical tonight, I see, sir—in truth it might be many years, or even—never."

A heavy sigh from him, "Never? How am I to bear it?" He sat down next to me—stretched out his arm and pulled me close and whispered in my ear, "I believe it will be sooner than you think—I have my devious ways of causing you to do so."

"Have you indeed, sir? Give me leave to doubt your powers of persuasion!"

"Tsk! It's really not so difficult." Here he began to kiss me, little kisses all over my face and down my neck and finally longer ones on my lips.

I wriggled, trying to escape this onslaught, but he was very persistent and more than somewhat stronger—it was an unequal contest. At last, I conceded him the victory, "Very well, Edward, this time you win, but the next time do not be too certain of your conquest."

"Pricklebush! Know that I have more than one string to my bow."

"Have you then? I foresee a deal of trouble ahead before I snap all your bowstrings!"

"Thus leaving me defenseless upon the Field? You would not treat me so."

"The Judge and Jury would acquit me in the interest of self-defense."

He tweaked my ear, "Not if I die of despair because of your disdain."

"That then, would be willful self-destruction—you know the penalty for that—burial in unhallowed ground."

Another heavy sigh, "Well, I suppose we will simply have to discuss more immediate matters than the fate of my immortal soul. I spoke with Cesar Villard today."

"What did you do with him? You returned alone."

"Some of what I had to tell him was hard for him to bear; besides, he was not in the mood to see Richard Mason tonight. I left him at the Inn down yonder—he'll be here in the morning."

"What did you think of him? Did you find him amiable?"

"We got on fairly well together. He's only a simple sailor and had trouble at first finding common ground with me; however, I reminded him that we share a wife. That loosened his tongue."

"Is she really his wife?"

"It seems so—he says he has the document to prove it. It's fortunate that we have your Uncle's solicitor here—I have sent for mine to attend me so that we can untangle this knot."

"Can it be so easy?"

"We may have to go before the Bishop before we're done, but I think it's simple enough. A valid, pre-existing marriage should cancel out anything subsequent. I never thought that it would take so long to clear this problem! Fifteen years!"

"The thing I find hard to understand is your willingness to jump back into the cooking pot!"

"You make marriage sound like a cannibal's feast! Are we always to be at odds?"

"I am not being fair, perhaps—it's just that I find you to be so impulsive and I don't want to go too fast, lest we end up in worse difficulties. Mrs. Fairfax has given me several strange looks lately; I don't want to lose her good opinion. There's my Uncle also, he's rather suspicious of your intentions."

"I know, I should have made the announcement several days ago, but you know how its been. I shall have to mend matters soon. Are you going in now?"

"It's late, and I'm tired, sir. I do have one request for you."

"What do you wish of me—elf?"

"Please, could I give some instruction to the Fielding children while they are here? It would keep them occupied, and Adele would enjoy their companionship."

"Yes, of course, that sounds like a good plan all around. There is no school in the village is there?"

"I believe there is not."

"Would you like one? It will be my Wedding gift to you."

"Edward, that would be wonderful! Thank you, you could not have found anything I would like better!" With that, I impulsively kissed him.

"I see that I have finally found the means to be called by my name. I shall have to fund a great many schools, it seems; I so enjoy hearing my name on your lips, let alone, your kisses in the same locale!"

"You are a great schemer!"

"I will take that as a compliment." Here he took my arm and walked me back to the House. "Until tomorrow," he said, "At that time, I hope to resolve these troubles of mine once and for all."

**I think the next thing that happens is the long-delayed meeting between Bertha and Cesar, I am still thinking about how it turns out. Any suggestions?**


	14. Chapter 14

**Gentle readers: Here we settle a few things, but not all things, because that would end the story too soon for my liking. Thanks for all the reviews-those who review get cookies (chocolate chip), those who put my story on their "faves list" get brownies. Sorry, Brontefan-I could not contact you directly as your messaging is disabled-but, to all you arsonists out there-I do not believe there will be a fire, because I love Thornfield, and how can they use it for the movies if it's all burned down? No complaints, pleeez-after all-this is my AU!**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 14

Mr. Villard came up to the house in the course of the morning. A carriage had been sent for him, as he was not comfortable on horseback. I saw him from a distance as he walked into the house with Mr. Rochester who greeted him at the door. He had the look of a seafarer; his skin was dark—whether naturally so or from the sun, I could not tell; he walked with a sailor's rolling step; his clothes were plain, as a workman's would be. He went upstairs with Mr. Rochester and I saw no more of them for the time being.

We were not present at the long-deferred meeting of these cruelly parted lovers. Mr. Rochester thought it best that there be no outside distractions to their reunion. We were told afterward how it went. The audience had now expanded to include; besides my Uncle, Mr. Briggs, and Mr. Mason, another person. Mr. Rochester's Solicitor, Mr. Ashby, was present also. Mr. Villard was absent, as it seemed he wished to spend his time upstairs with Bertha.

"Fortunately, it was one of Bertha's quiet days," Mr. Rochester said that evening when we were gathered after Dinner in the Drawing Room. "Grace Poole had spent some time on improving Bertha's appearance; brushing her hair; putting one of her more presentable gowns on her; generally cleaning her up and making her look decent. Oddly enough, Bertha was very cooperative in this endeavor and made no fuss with the arrangements. Grace had told her that she was to have a visitor—someone from Jamaica who she had not seen for a long time. Bertha said she didn't want to see her Brother, Richard- Grace told her that it was someone else.

"I took in to see her and stayed in the back of the room in case my help was needed. He walked forward rather hesitantly—after all, her appearance was greatly changed from when he had known her before in Jamaica—I suppose that his appearance was different also—fifteen years had passed since they had last seen each other. She did not seem to see him at first, she was crooning to her little poppet, when suddenly she looked up. For a moment there was silence-she recognized him—she gave a great heart-rending cry-'CESAR!' and ran to him—her arms wide open to embrace him.

"He in his turn, held her as close to him as if they were one person—they were both weeping. I looked at Grace and indicated that I would leave them if she thought it wise—she nodded and followed me to the outer room. We waited there with the door open in case of need—but we were not called upon during the hour they spent together.

"At last Cesar came out to inform us that Bertha (he calls her Toni) was tired and had laid down to rest. He was very thoughtful as we retired to my private Study. I asked him did he want to continue seeing her. He was very positive in his hopes that with a little time and patience her condition would improve from what it had been these last years.

"The more I considered the matter, the more I was inclined to agree with him. It was evident in retrospect that Bertha had been in a severe state of melancholy ever since she had been separated from Cesar. Her family had apparently lied to her and told her that he was dead; when all the time he had been kidnapped and sent to sea—to work as a sailor on one of their ships—to be kept from returning to Jamaica for as long a time as possible. There she was—minus a spouse, in the family way, and forced to marry a stranger—myself. The loss of the child only made things worse—she now had nothing left of her husband. She gave way into despondency and anger; in her frustration and rage she lashed out at all those who she blamed for the loss of her happiness. I, of course, was often the focus of her fury, as she never seemed to understand that I had also been victimized by their actions.

"I am sorry that I have to say all these things in front of her brother, Richard, he actually played a very small part in what took place. I place the origin and greater share of the blame where it rightfully belongs—on his Father, Jonas Mason—who along with my own Parent, conspired against his child's well-being and future. It is my understanding that Jonas has died and gone on to his reward—I hope he's not too surprised at the extreme warmth of his present quarters. Jamaica is hot, but Hell—they tell me—is hotter!"

Mr. Villard came in shortly thereafter and was made known to us. He was a very simple person in his demeanor, but very dignified withal. He told Mr. Rochester that he would like to take Bertha away with him as soon as matters were set right. Mr. Rochester agreed and giving Richard Mason a speaking look, remarked that the balance of the thirty thousand pound dowry which had been promised, had never been paid—that he had actually received only five thousand pounds out of the thirty which had been in the original agreement.

The sweat stood out on Mr. Mason's face as he realized the amount he was being asked to give to the nephew of a former servant of his family. Mr. Rochester remarked that it was only just that he himself pay over to Mr. Villard the five thousand that he had received in the Past, as it had never rightfully been his. It was obvious that Cesar would never again have to go to sea unless he wished to do so; indeed, he would now have sufficient funds to invest in a ship of his own, if he wished. His thanks were profound—he had never expected to receive such a fortune—it would enable him to make his wife comfortable in a home of her own—he had every expectation that her state of mind would improve with time and care.

Mr. Rochester gave directions to his Solicitor to have the papers drawn up for the transfer of funds, and to institute immediately the dissolution of his invalid marriage. Mr. Ashby was certain that there would not be much difficulty made about it, since Mr. Villard was present, and in possession of the proofs of his anterior marriage to Bertha Antoinetta Mason.

-xxx-

Edward talked to me later on about his feelings when he had found himself trapped. "I was very angry, of course, just at first, to think that I had been gulled into marrying a woman who had obviously been with someone else. I soon realized that she was in a bad way mentally—full of grief and anger—continually weeping for her Cesar. It took a while before I understood just what he was to her, and that she thought him dead and lost to her forever.

"My attitude towards her changed then—how could I blame her, when she had been so mistreated by Fate and her Family? It was later that I discovered more of the truth—that he had been overpowered and shipped off to sea—whether to live or die, I could not discover for a long time. In the meantime, of course, she lost the child and that was the final blow to her recovery. She sank into a mixture of sorrow and rage which has fluctuated, but never abated.

"I brought her to England when the change in my family affairs required my presence here. I felt that I could at least keep her safe from any more of her Father's schemes. I was not eager to publish the news of my Wedding since I had my doubts as to its validity. It meant that I had to keep her closed up here at Thornfield where I could better conceal her identity. Besides, I am suspicious of institutions—they often seem better from the outside than from the inside—from your own experience of them, you will recognize the truth in my belief."

I said then, "Do you really feel that Bertha will recover her senses, and be able to live a normal life?"

"Who am I to doubt the existence of miracles? It took a near-miracle to locate Cesar and bring him here. If his presence is the catalyst needed to heal Bertha, then it shall be God's will that she regains her equilibrium."

I stifled my urge to laugh—it sounded so odd to hear him talk of God's will; he had never seemed particularly devout.

"What are you smiling at? Here I am discussing serious things, and I find you trying not to giggle."

"I am sorry, it just surprised me when you invoked the Deity for Bertha's healing."

"Yes, perhaps, but who better than the source of all that is good in this world? Little girl—I wish I had known you fifteen years ago—how different things might have been!"

I burst into laughter at this remark, I could not help myself. Poor fellow, he stood there looking rather surprised at my mirth. I hastened to explain myself, "Mr. Rochester, fifteen years ago, I would have been quite _beneath_ your notice as I would have been three years old! Talk of robbing the cradle!"

"Saucebox! I resent your implications and assure you that I would never commit such an error of judgment!"

"It's just as well that you were forced to wait for me, or I might have seen someone like Miss Ingram carrying off my prize!"

"God forbid!"

**So, there you have it-a happy reunion for lovers long-parted. Soon, perhaps, the rest of the story...**


	15. Chapter 15

**Bye-bye Bertha! Talk of future plans, and for those who like that sort of thing-a little togetherness.**

AFTER THE STORM Chapter 15

Several weeks had passed: the marriage tangle had been sorted out and Mr. Rochester was now officially a single man. Mr. Mason had departed in a state of chagrin at the need to pay over the long past-due balance of the dowry. Now it was the turn of the Villards to leave Thornfield. I watched them as they left, accompanied by Grace Poole, who had stayed on as companion and maid to Bertha Villard.

Mr. Villard had expressed a desire to remove to Cornwall—he had heard that it was warmer there—even to the extent of having palm trees. He thought that his wife might recover sooner in a more Tropical climate. I saw her much changed from her earlier horrific appearance the night of the storm. She was well-dressed, with silver strands in her hair, a middle-aged woman—actually older than Mr. Rochester, as it turned out. She seemed a bit haggard, but contented to be with her husband, at last. I noticed that Grace was left in charge of the "baby"-apparently not everything had changed for the better yet. I wished them well in their new life together.

Mr. Rochester's comment managed to express his feelings eloquently, "I hope he has better luck with her than I did!" I turned then, to return to the house and my schoolmistress duties; but Mr. Rochester detained me with a hand on my arm. "Stay a moment, Jane, I would speak with you."

I looked at him inquiringly, "What did you wish to tell me? I should be setting the children to their lessons soon."

"Yes, that is one of the things—Rev. Wood's sister has been recently widowed and has come to live with him here in Hay. It was my thought that she might be able to teach the children in the school that we are starting in the Village. She is coming up to the Hall this morning to be interviewed for the position. I would like you to be present, as you will perhaps be better able to judge her abilities."

"What a good idea! She may do very well, indeed—I suppose she is an older lady, I do hope the children will not prove to be too lively for her."

"I believe she is still in her thirties—I am sure that she has enough energy left to keep them in line!"

His hand tightened on my arm as I made to leave once again. "Jane, we still have another matter to be settled, as you know-when shall we be married?"

The reaction those few words—that simple question—caused, was extraordinary. I felt the thrill of them throughout me—I was stunned, left without words to answer him. So much had happened in the last few weeks, somehow our betrothal had fallen into the background of my thinking. Now that little query had brought it into the foreground—something I would soon have to deal with.

He was speaking to me—words I could barely hear for the noise in my ears—a sort of buzzing sound. I became aware that he had picked me up and was carrying me into the house. When I next was cognizant of my surroundings, I found myself seated on a chair with Mrs. Fairfax trying to get me to drink something. She was fluttering and fussing so much that I drank it too quickly and was rewarded by a burning sensation all the way to my stomach. I sputtered, "What was that awful stuff?"

Mr. Rochester's voice came from behind me, "Only my best Brandy-I see you are no toper, so I will forgive you your lack of appreciation for one of the finer pleasures of life."

"I would as lief smoke one of your cigars!"

"You are feeling better, I see. Mrs. Fairfax, I thank you for your assistance—you may get back to what you were doing before I called you—I need to speak with Miss Eyre."

"Very well, sir." and she was gone, but I noticed that she had left the door open.

Mr. Rochester noticed this also and was quick to shut it. "Hang the conventions!" he growled, "I am in no mind to be overheard just now." He came and sat down close by, "I was rather taken by surprise at that fainting fit of yours—I had not thought you such a fragile blossom of young ladyhood. Is there something the matter? Have you changed your mind about marrying me? Do you think me too old, too ugly, perhaps? Or is it because of Bertha? Please, Janet, be frank with me—I would rather have the painful truth than a lot of evasion."

I was struck by the humility behind his questioning—I could see that he had his doubts also. I sat a little straighter on my chair as I answered him, "Edward, I want very much to marry you, because I love you and I can't imagine a future without you. I have never thought much about your age or your appearance since the first days I have known you, It was the person inside you who attracted me; I was almost frantic when I thought that there was no way that I could ever mean anything to you; and then you confessed to me that you loved me and wanted me for your wife. My feet have scarcely touched the ground since then, because I have been so happy. As for that poor woman—I feel sorry for her and for you with such a problem—but I am certain that you did the best you could for her."

He smiled a little, "But that was in the vows, you know—I had promised to care for her whether sick or well—and I did so until it was no longer necessary."

"And you keep your promises?"

"To the best of my ability."

"What will you promise me?"

"The rest of my life—for you—and you only." He was holding my hand in his as he said this, I felt the thrill run through me again as I gazed into his eyes. Suddenly he pulled me onto his lap, the next moment his lips met mine, and the world disappeared from my knowledge and sight, he was all there was of existence, life, joy, and warmth.

"So, that's how it was—I took you by surprise out there—and you were so overcome by your feelings that you fainted? I am not accustomed to have that effect on young ladies."

"I should hope not, indeed! But it's true—I was left speechless when you said that about the Wedding date. The change of subject rather took me by surprise."

"We had best straighten up—I've mussed your hair; and Mrs. Fairbairn, Rev. Wood's sister, should be arriving soon for her interview."

"Oh!" I propelled myself off his knee and ran to the mirror over the mantelpiece, "I'm a mess! How could you—just look at what you've done to me!" I was sputtering in my indignation. Indeed, there was more than my hair that needed to be put to rights. I could see that my color was high and my eyes were bright, and my lips were swollen from his kisses. I sighed in exasperation as I straightened my dress collar and brushed down the creases in my skirts. "There's no need to advertise our activities to the world, you know!"

"I had best talk to your Uncle before he comes hunting after me with a challenge for a dawn meeting and a pair of dueling pistols. I have been remiss in that area."

**A duel over Jane's honor? I hope not!**


	16. AFTER THE STORM Chapter 16

**For all you banter lovers-here is a particularly outrageous specimen of the genre. I giggled the whole time i was inventing it-I hope you like it too.**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 16

Mrs. Fairbairn proved to be adequate to the task of running the school at Hay and it was with a certain mount of relief that I turned the work over to her. Mr. Rochester had designated a disused storage building for the School and appropriate repairs and alterations had been made. The furnishings and supplies had been ordered and delivered; and within a matter of weeks the School was opened.

The Village's acceptance of it was a bit cautious at first, but when the Fielding children let it be known that a midday meal was supplied, and that the Schoolmistress was strict but fair, and that there were no beatings—the other Village children began to clamor for a place in the School. Before long, Mr. Rochester found it necessary to hire another Teacher and enlarge the School—so that the girls could have instruction also.

I found it necessary to call him "Edward" many times in appreciation for his thoughtfulness. He would only smile and say that it pleased him to see me so easily satisfied by his efforts. But I digress, for all that was still in the Future, and at this present time we had just finished interviewing Mrs. Fairbairn.

"That went well, I think," he said afterward, "She will do an excellent job with the children. When you introduced her to the Fielding boys, I could see that they responded very well to her."

"They are very polite children," I said, "Nonetheless, they _are _boys, and I am certain that she will be quite busy keeping them in order sometimes."

"I am positive that she will succeed—she seems sufficiently strong-minded to be able to deal with an entire regiment of such."

"Do _you_ feel able to deal with my Uncle?"

He heaved a sigh and grimaced, "I suppose I ought not to put it off any longer. You do realize that if anything should happen to your Uncle; I would have to start all over again ingratiating myself with your next Guardian—whoever he might prove to be..."

"In that case—there's no time like the Present—as they say."

"It would fortify me considerably for my fearsome task, if you were to give me a little token of your esteem before I go forth to battle the Dragon."

"What? You wish me to tie my handkerchief to your armor?"

"I had much rather have a kiss."

"You are a shameless beggar, sir! But, given that it is a perilous enterprise that you are embarked upon—you shall have a kiss—later—if you prove successful in your quest."

"Alas for me, to be under the spell of so fair, and so hard-hearted a maiden as you are!" he declaimed dramatically.

"Hah!" said I, "And what of me—in love with the Court Jester?"

"Nay, fair lady, it is not so—I am ever your most devoted paladin."

"You are nonsensical, sir!" I said laughing.

He began to chuckle also, and fell to his knee in front of me. "I would have that handkerchief of yours as a token to carry into combat."

I slowly drew it out of my sleeve and presented it to him. "Go forth then—I wish you successful in your quest, Sir Knight!" I gave it a flourish as I said this and dropped it onto his head.

He peered at me from beneath a lacy corner, "I may have mistaken the Dragon's identity."

"So, many a gentleman has discovered, to his cost, after the vows are spoken and the Honeymoon is over!"

"I live in fearful anticipation of your transition."

"Be advised that it is not only the wife who changes—more often it proves to be the husband who goes from bad to worse!"

At that point we were interrupted by John, who came to the door with my Uncle, who was demanding to speak with Mr. Rochester. "Sorry, sir," he said, "but Mr. Eyre is set on having speech with you."

Mr. Rochester swiftly rose to his feet and whisked the handkerchief into his breast pocket, smiling impishly at me as he did so. "Show him in, by all means."

**Yes, I know-"Cliff" again-but I never said that it would be easy! Stay tuned for our next thrilling adventure!**


	17. Chapter 17

**For those with a curiosity about the behavior of dragons-****I present herewith an example. As for Mr. Rochester's levity-keep in mind that he is nervous.**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 17

Now, I would just mention here in passing, that since the time when he had appeared on the scene at Thornfield, I had spent some time each day in getting to know my Uncle and some of my family history—things that no one had ever told me. I had become very fond of him, and he had shown a great deal of interest in, and concern for me. He had also several times betrayed his worries about Mr. Rochester's intentions towards me. Therefore, when he discovered us together, alone in the Library, it was bound to raise his suspicions to the boiling point. Nonetheless, he entered quietly enough.

"Good morning Uncle," I greeted him with a smile and a kiss on his cheek. He gave me a skeptical look, but returned the greeting with a kiss on my forehead. He did not not extend this last favor to Mr. Rochester; beyond wishing him a "good morning", he was done with the courtesies.

"It seems that I find the two of you together—just as I feared," he said.

"Why Uncle, we have just been interviewing an applicant for the post of Schoolmistress for the school in the Village,"

"That's neither here nor there, the lady departed this house more than half an hour ago, and I find you still here—in private—with this gentleman. Have you no thought for the proprieties, young lady?"

I cast an anguished glance at Mr. Rochester—who betrayed his feelings only by a suspicious twitch at the corner of his mouth—really, he could be so annoying, sometimes. I gave him a dragonish frown in return.

"Miss Eyre," he said, "I think we are done with discussing Mrs. Fairbairn and her qualifications—she seems to be perfectly suited to the work ahead of her. You may return to your duties now." Here he made as if to usher me out of the room.

I baulked at this sudden dismissal, "No, I wish to stay and hear what my Uncle has to say to you, especially since I think it concerns me also." With that, I resumed my seat.

"Well sir, it seems that your Niece has a mind of her own," he remarked. "I fear we shall have to bear with her presence here as she has demonstrated that she is not to be removed easily."

My Uncle looked rather discomfitted at my insistence on being present, but he gave up the struggle readily enough—remarking that the Eyres were a stubborn race and that he could see that I had inherited this trait in full. Mr. Rochester contented himself with casting a satirical glance my way. I resolved to exact payment in full for his attitude at some future time. I could tell that he had once again read my mind by the soulful look that he gave to the ceiling's plaster decorations—infuriating man!

My Uncle had missed this interchange as he was occupied with seating himself by the fireplace.

'I may be old and not in the best of health," he began, "But there are some things that I have noticed and wondered about ever since I came here. My Niece does not seem to be treated as Governesses are usually treated. You appear to have made a sort of confidante of her, and I have been witness to the fact that you discuss subjects with her that are not usually mentioned before innocent young ladies. Also, you are too much in private with her. I want to know just what you mean by this sort of behavior, young man!"

Mr. Rochester gave a sort of sputter at this last epithet, he turned away briefly—I could see that he was trying not to laugh out loud. He turned back, his laughter was under control, but his eyes were full of amusement, "You must pardon my unseemly reaction, Mr. Eyre, I believe that I have not been called 'young man' since my Father died."

"I hope it does you good—you need to be put in your place!"

"I begin to think that we are at cross-purposes here, Mr. Eyre. The fact is that I was on the point of seeking an interview with you."

"For what purpose?"

"There are many ways to say this, but I will use the short form—I wish to marry your Niece."

"What? Haven't we just seen you in the process of disposing of your first marriage? Now you tell me that you want to start all over again—and with my Niece! I shall soon begin to think you some kind of villain—Jane, come with me—we are leaving this place immediately!"

"But, Uncle John, I do not wish to leave!" I looked at my Uncle imploringly, "Please, won't you give Mr. Rochester a chance to explain matters..."

"It seems to me that all we have had out of this gentleman are explanations and excuses lately! I have never heard so much of a conglomeration as has been presented to me here. I will have no patience with it, I tell you!" By now he was waving his cane about wildly, to the imminent danger of the ornaments on the mantelpiece, his face was flushed, and he was breathing heavily.

I was very much alarmed at his state of agitation, but I persevered in my attempt to clarify matters, "Uncle John, there are things you do not know—I have not told you all..."

"It makes no matter to me—I am totally opposed to the idea, and there's an end to it!" Here he went into a sudden fit of coughing and was forced to sit down again. His cough soon passed—he lay back in the chair—gasping for breath—his color still alarmingly high. Mr. Rochester gave me a wet cloth which I used to wipe my Uncle's face in an attempt to cool him—I was then handed a glass of Brandy which I carefully administered. My patient was quieter now, and seemed to be somewhat recovered from his fit.

I looked at Edward, "What are we to do now?" I asked.

**What indeed? It looks as though the dragon has choked on his bilious flames! Surely you didn't think I was going to end this tale so easily! Mwah haha!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Enter the Rivers family into our little tale. This is a very scaley dragon we have here.**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 18

Edward and I stood side by side as we looked down at my Uncle John, who had just experienced a fit of some kind, and who was half reclined in the chair that he had been sitting in earlier. I was very much alarmed by his appearance—pale and sweaty—and the lassitude which he was exhibiting.

Mr. Rochester then went into action: he sent for Mr. Briggs to attend us; he asked Mrs. Fairfax to come also; and he despatched a message to the Stables that someone was to fetch Mr. Carter, the Surgeon, without delay.

"Briggs," he said, when that worthy gentleman appeared, "Mr. Eyre, your client, seems to have taken a turn for the worse—I am sending for the Surgeon to attend him as soon as possible; in the meantime Miss Eyre and Mrs. Fairfax will watch over him. I will send for his family if you think it practical to do so."

To Mrs. Fairfax, he simply described the situation and sought her help in alleviating my Uncle's condition. It was decided that my Uncle should be taken upstairs and put to bed—this was soon done. Mr. Briggs had meantime scratched out a letter to my unknown cousins in Yorkshire advising them of my Uncle's condition and enclosing funds for their journey to Thornfield. This was sent off within the hour by an Express Rider, as there was no time to be lost.

Mr. Carter soon made his appearance and examined my Uncle—he shook his head afterward and simply said that he doubted that my Uncle would ever see Madeira again. It seemed that the end was near for him. A few days, perhaps a week or two, if he was kept quiet and not allowed to agitate himself—but more than that—it was doubtful. He left us with a few remedies and the advice to keep my Uncle's head elevated to assist him in breathing more easily. He approved Mrs. Fairfax' use of Foxglove*, but cautioned against too large a quantity as it could have the opposite result. She assured him that it was a thing she had always used with great caution.

Edward found me outside in the Gallery where I had gone after Mr. Carter had told us of the sad prognosis. I'm afraid that he found me weeping, "Ah Jane, Jane—how sorry I am," he said as he held out his arms to me. I sank into his comforting embrace without a thought of whether it was proper to do so or not. It was enough to know that there was sympathy for my pain—I needed the strength he offered me. "You have known your Uncle such a short time, yet you are fond of him—are you not?"

I nodded my head, not trusting myself to speak just now. He wiped my tears and took me downstairs. "If I understood the matter aright, your Cousins should be here within the week. Tell me, what do you know of them? You seldom mention your Family."

"There are three of them, a brother and two sisters; they are the children of my Aunt, who was sister to my Father and Uncle. Their last name is Rivers and I really know very little more about them—I believe them to be somewhat older than I am by a few years. My Uncle had quarreled with their Father, and so he has not been in contact with them for a long time."

"I will give directions for rooms to be prepared for them here; perhaps you and Mrs. Fairfax should decide which ones would the most comfortable for their stay. Try not to worry too much about your Uncle—his illness is no fault of yours."

"It's just that he got so angry at the idea of you marrying me—I don't understand why..."

"My darling, he's jealous—there he is—he has just found you, and I come along, all ready to take you away. Of course it upset him."

"Oh, why didn't that occur to me?"

"Mainly because you don't think like a man."

"Hmph! I may be certain that you prefer it to be so!"

"I like you the way you are—very much indeed!" Here he gave me a kiss to prove his allegation and thus ended the threatened skirmish.

-xxx-

My cousins arrived a few days later, but it was just the two sisters—Diana and Mary Rivers. It was explained that their brother would follow in a few days, but that he could not leave his parish without a replacement.

I was delighted to meet the Rivers sisters as it seemed that we had much in common. I found our tastes and preferences to be very similar—they had read many of the same books that I had, and were not backward in expressing their thoughts and opinions on the material. They were studious young ladies, but not solemn—Diana, particularly, was given to very lively observations on her readings and surroundings.

They thought Thornfield a very romantic, beautiful old place and their opinion of Mr. Rochester was most interesting to me. Diana told me that he had struck her at first as being rather stern and unapproachable; but that he definitely improved upon acquaintance—Mary agreed with this, but added her mite in saying that she found him to be highly intelligent and very kind.

I confided in them eventually, and told them that he wished to marry me, and that our Uncle was opposed to the idea; and that his attack had come when Mr. Rochester had attempted to gain his permission. They were both shocked and thrilled at this revelation. Diana said that she thought such a reaction most Gothic on our Uncle's part, and Mary asked me what my feelings were. I told them that we loved each other, and wished nothing more than to be married, and to be together for the rest of our lives.

I had noticed that they were both in mourning clothes, and they told me that their Father had died only a few weeks previously. Mr. Briggs' letter had found them at home with their brother due to this sad occasion—otherwise they would have been at their separate employments—they were governesses also. I sympathized with them on the loss of their Father—they said that he had not been very well the last few years, and that his death was not unexpected—nonetheless, they would miss him very much.

They both spent time each day with our Uncle—he had been a little standoffish with them at first on account of his old quarrel with their Father—but when he was told of his brother-in-law's death and that his passing had found my cousins in much reduced fiscal circumstances, with the sisters obliged to work for a living, instead of being treated as the ladies they were born to be—he softened considerably. I noticed that he enjoyed Diana's company greatly, but that it was Mary with her gentle ways, whom he seemed to prefer.

I asked Edward how he felt about his expanded household, and he said that he enjoyed seeing us together—just like a bouquet of garden flowers—each one of us unique, yet adding something to the whole. I asked him which flower he likened me to, and he smiled as he called me a thistle! I would have sulked about this if he had not kissed me when he said it.

Adele, of course, was delighted with all the extra attention she was receiving from my cousins, and they were pleased at having an opportunity to practice their French with her. I reminded them all that she was supposed to be learning English, and that I thought her progress was somewhat delayed due to all the excitement we had been having lately.

A few days later the Reverend St. John Eyre Rivers arrived at Thornfield.

*Foxglove is a source of Digitalis which is both a heart stimulant and a poison-depending on the quantity. Mrs. Fairfax is aware of the danger.

**Yup, you guessed it-I still love Cliff! Byee!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A discussion of St. John, a mysterious passage, a mention of Scotland-much to consider.**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 19

I am certain that you will want to know what I thought of my cousin, St. John Rivers. My first impression was of a very tall young man; extremely handsome with fair hair, blue eyes and a classical profile. He was well-dressed, although in mourning as were his sisters. But it was his bearing that struck me as being very self-contained—he seemed always to be seeing something more than what was present before him—it was the look of a visionary—a person whose sights were set on some far-distant goal—his physical person might be here before me, but his mind was far away.

He was a strong contrast to Edward, who was dark of feature, and strongly built. Edward was not particularly handsome, although his great black eyes were mesmerizing in their gaze; and there was his voice—as vibrant as his personality. Somehow, my cousin paled in contrast to him—indeed, as time went on, I began to have a difficulty in differentiating St. John from an example of Classical sculpture. He was too perfect in his appearance, too distant in his manner; with his thoughts always seeming to be elsewhere. Indeed, sometimes it seemed as though he might be made of marble rather than flesh and blood.

His manners were polite and gentleman-like. His ideas were lofty. His conversation was correct and well-informed; but I found that his reserved personality made it difficult to know what he was really thinking about. He had brought a quantity of books with him and he seemed to spend a great deal of his time in studying their content.

I was surprised when I discovered that he was engrossed in the study of Hindustani—when I asked him why he wished to learn it, he displayed the first signs of enthusiasm that I had noted in him. At last, it seemed, I had hit upon a topic that interested him. He told me that he wished to go to India as a missionary and that a knowledge of the principal language was essential to his success in this endeavor. I found myself wondering what Edward and my Uncle would think of his ambition.

Our household had fallen into a curious pattern with regards to the meals. I had always taken my meals with Mrs. Fairfax in her Parlor and Mr. Rochester had always eaten alone in the Dining Room except when he had company to share his Dinner. It was true that when my Uncle and his companions had first appeared, Mr. Rochester had suggested that I join them for their meals. I had refused, saying that I preferred to stay with Mrs. Fairfax and keep her company. When Diana and Mary appeared, we had continued to eat with Mrs. Fairfax; then St. John made his appearance, and of course, ended in the Dining Room with Mr. Rochester and Mr. Briggs.

Edward had complained to me about this arrangement—saying that it seemed to be rather Oriental, what with the segregation of the sexes. I simply smiled and said that I thought it appropriate to the situation. I told him that I found it awkward to preside over his table when I was not the Lady of the House, but only an employee. He huffed and puffed, but I was adamant in my decision.

We did continue to meet in the Drawing Room after Dinner for general conversation and genteel pastimes: a bit of fancywork for the ladies; some music; perhaps a few chapters from a popular book read aloud; or a parlor game. St. John would end these sessions with a reading from the Bible and Evening Prayers. I was surprised when Edward allowed this, as we had never done it previously at Thornfield; but he simply shrugged, and said that in the past few years, this custom, due to his frequent absences had fallen into desuetude; and that during his Father's time, it had always been done. I saw that it pleased my cousins and Mrs. Fairfax, and so I held my peace.

The biggest problem seemed to lie in the fact that there were too many people at Thornfield who took an interest in myself. It was almost impossible for Edward to find an opportunity to talk to me privately, let alone anything more. I could see that he was becoming fretful at having my company constantly usurped by my Family's presence.

However, he was resourceful—one day as I was passing the Library, the door opened and a hand I recognized beckoned me into the room. I slipped through the door to find him standing with a warning finger to his lips. With every aspect of exaggerated caution he showed me to a hidden door behind a bookcase—silently he opened it and I found that we were in a narrow passageway, very dimly lit from somewhere above us—it was not particularly clean and smelled rather musty and dusty—he took my hand and led me to a set of steps going down. We had to feel our way cautiously as it was very dark—at the bottom of the stairs, there was a heavy door which he opened carefully to reveal a small garden courtyard. "No one can see us or hear us here," he said, "This was my Great Grandfather's private hiding place, which he made good use of whenever he wanted some peaceful moments—from what I have heard of my Great Grandmother, I suspect he used it often. There are some more steps that lead upstairs, but I have never been able to find the catch to the door."

"Well, it seems that Thornfield has its mysteries," I said, "I believe that all I need wish for to round out the story would be a ghost or a lost treasure."

"I have never come across either of those—but it leaves us something to hope for—does it not?" He had slipped his arm around me as he sat us down upon a bench concealed inside an arbor. "Janet, I have missed our time together so much—your family seems to be everywhere you go. I couldn't believe my luck when I saw you alone in the hallway. Tell me, how does your Uncle do?"

"He is very weak, but still sensible—I think it has done him good to visit with my cousins. He seems to have taken to Diana and Mary."

"And your other cousin, their brother, St. John—how does he manage with him?"

"That does not seem to go as well—I'm afraid that St. John resembles his father. It seems that my Uncle John and Mr. Rivers Senior had a serious falling-out over a failed investment. The upshot being that my Uncle left the country, firmly resolved never to be in communication with him again. Now that my Uncle Rivers is dead—he has relented somewhat—at least where Mary and Diana are concerned. He seems to be having a more difficult time dealing with their brother."

"But, my darling, suppose he makes his Will in their favor and leaves you with nothing?"

"It will not matter to me—would it matter to you?"

"Not in the least—after all—I think I've had my fill of heiresses. The thing of it is that we might have to run off to Scotland together if he remains so intransigent. Would you mind eloping?"

"You, sir, are a scandalous rogue! 'Would I mind eloping?' he asks me. Hah! If it was good enough for my parents, it's good enough for me!"

"Miss Eyre! I am totally taken aback by your forward behavior! May I kiss you?"

"Since when have you sought permission for your misbehavior?"

"Ever since I found that my little flower had thorns!"

I gave him a smile as I turned my face up to his. I lost myself in bliss for a while—his arms were so strong around me, his caressing hands were so gentle, and his kisses were so exciting—I never wanted our time together to end. But end it did—a clock struck the hour—and we both came to our senses with the recollection of things that needed to be done. He showed me the way out of the little garden and then we returned separately to the house.

**I think we'd better get them married off one of these days!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Jane and her Uncle talk-she tells him that she will marry no one but Edward.**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 20

I went to see how my Uncle did—I found him resting quietly, with Mary at his side. She gave me one of her sweet smiles when I came into the room, and gathering up her sewing, she left us alone. He was resting quietly, his breathing a bit heavy—after a while he opened his eyes. "Jane," he said, "I've been wanting to talk to you." His voice was a bit weak, but gained somewhat in strength as he continued speaking. "Are we alone?" he asked. I answered that it was so.

He reached out for my hand, "Jane, I think I'm not going to be able to return to my home in Madeira. I'm terribly afraid that this is where I am going to stay—forever." I tried to stifle my tears, I turned my face to the side, I tried not to show my distress. He squeezed my hand gently. "When Rochester asked to marry you the other day, it upset me—I had just found you, I was selfish perhaps—but I didn't want to lose you so soon to another man."

"Uncle, I could not have...we would not have..." I stopped, unable to continue.

He pressed my hand again, "Don't distress yourself, I think I understand. You are determined to marry him, aren't you?"

"We love each other, very much—I cannot bear the idea that I should not be his wife."

"There are other fish in the sea, you know."

"From what I have seen—they are just _fish_—not prospective husbands!"

"But if you were an heiress, they would flock around you."

"Edward asked me to marry him, before there was any talk of an inheritance!"

"Did he now! That was rather irregular, was it not? After all, his first marriage had not yet been set aside, if I understand you properly—and there was the matter of your Guardian's permission."

"My Aunt Reed had just died—and he had just received the intelligence that Cesar Villard was in England—he admitted to me that he was ahead of himself when he asked me to marry him—it _was _impulsive of him to do that."

"But you have forgiven him already—haven't you?"

"I would forgive him a great deal."

"Ah yes, such is love..." my Uncle sighed. I wondered what memories he had—he had never married that I knew of—perhaps there was a lost Love somewhere in his Past life—someone that he longed for. "Well," my Uncle murmured, "I trust that things have not gone too far between the two of you—the fellow has not compromised you has he?"

"Oh no, nothing like that! Never!"

"What? Not laid a finger upon you—poor sort of suitor, that! Aha! You are as red as a beet, my dear—enjoyed it did you?"

"**Uncle!"** was my scandalized response.

"No point in marriage if you can't abide being_ touched_ by the man from time to time. Just so long as there's no question of seven-month babes—that sort of thing never looks well. Don't you go and 'Uncle!' me young lady—you know perfectly well what I'm referring to."

"No, we have not..." I found myself unable to continue—my whole face must have been burning red from embarrassment.

"That's as well then. So, you think he would marry you whether you had money or not."

"I am certain of that—he told me that he would elope with me to Scotland if you would not consent."

"Dear me, that's a bold young man you've got there—hot-blooded, impulsive...gives you a lot of trouble, I should think."

"Not nearly so much as you might believe!"

"There's always your cousin, St. John—what about him? Very worthy young man, that one."

I laughed, "Uncle, really—I had as lief marry a piece of garden statuary!"

My Uncle snorted, "Janey, that was not kind of you!"

"I'm sorry, it's just that the only thing that really seems to animate him is that ridiculous ambition of his!"

"Ah, he's got some goal in mind—pray tell, what could it be?"

"He has not told you then? He wishes to be a missionary in India."

"A missionary? In India? Are you certain?"

"He is deep in the study of Hindustani as we speak."

"I give him up as a lost cause then—he would never do for you! So, my dear girl, you are set upon this Rochester of yours; with or without my approval."

"Yes, Uncle, there is no one else for me."

"And, if down the road, you find him disappointing you—what then?"

"I do not think he will disappoint me—surprise me from time to time, perhaps—but disappoint me?...never."

"So be it." my Uncle said, "My blessing on you child, you have been a great comfort to me these last few days. Send Briggs to me if you please."

"Yes, Uncle John," I bent over him and gave him a kiss before I left the room.

**Sent for his lawyer, has he? This is getting serious, folks! Mwah haha!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Just for you, my faithful readers-something you did not see coming-I betcha! Don't feel bad, I didn't know it was going to happen either. There is a new snag in the Thornfield story!**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 21

When I came out of my Uncle's room, my eyes were so full of tears that I could not see clearly. I nearly tripped over Edward's foot when he stepped in front of me. He caught me before I could fall. "Janet, what is the matter? Did he say something to you? Why are you crying? If he has upset you—I'll have a word with him—sick or not!"

"No, no, it's not like that—it's just that he knows that he is going to die—just now he was asking me if I truly wished to marry you."

"I'll marry you no matter what he thinks!"

"Edward, dear Edward, you don't understand at all—he _will_ give us his consent. He has agreed!"

"He has! Well, I'll be..." he exclaimed, "I should go to him before he changes his mind—just to be certain!"

"No, no, not yet," I cautioned him. "He sent me to find Mr. Briggs. Have you seen him lately?"

"It's Tea-time, he'll be in Mrs. Fairfax' Parlor munching scones and slurping tea, I have no doubt!"

"Shame on you! You should not remark on people's shortcomings in such a fashion."

"I take my entertainment wherever it is offered me!" I looked up at him, his eyes were full of merriment—I could see that his mood had altered for the better upon the knowledge of my Uncle's consent to our marriage. "Come along with me, you little taskmistress—let us locate Mr. Briggs for your Uncle—and then, perhaps_" but here we were interrupted.

It was Sophie in a great taking—sputtering in French that Adele had disappeared and was nowhere to be found. I tried to soothe her frantic outbursts, and finally succeeded in discovering that she had left Adele to her afternoon rest, and that when she had gone to wake her for Tea, she had found her nowhere in sight and the bed not slept in. I went with her to see, and found the bedding undisturbed with only a few creases in the coverlet—as though she had lain down and then gotten up again.

A survey of the room found only that her doll and her sunbonnet were missing. I proposed that we look out of doors and that was when Sophie confounded me with the information that she had already done this with no result. I shared her concern, as it would be dark in a few hours and that would make the search more difficult.

I found Edward downstairs, talking with Mrs. Fairfax and John about the need to locate Adele; he had already sent Mr. Briggs to my Uncle. The indoor and outdoor staff were gathered together and questioned as to whether anyone had seen the child during the afternoon. One of the maids remembered seeing her on the stairs, another thought she might have gone out the side door. One of the gardeners spoke up and said that he had seen her near the gates; then one of the younger Fielding boys said that he had seen her talking to a lady.

When we tried to get him to describe this person, we ran into difficulties—little Robin was not quite five years old and his powers of description were nowhere near fully developed. He said she was tall, but all grown ups would seem tall to him; he said she had a pretty dress and a hat with a veil over her face. He had no idea of her looks because of the veil; and no idea of how old she might be. I asked him if he thought Adele might have gone for a walk with the lady—he could not say, he was not certain. I queried him further about the lady's clothing—he thought her dress might be blue. Then it occurred to me to ask if the lady had been alone—no, she had a dog with her—a brown dog, not very big.

Edward called for his horse, he said he would go into the Village and make some inquiries about this person, but that we should continue our search of the grounds. I had never realized that Thornfield had so many nooks and crannies about its grounds. We went over the whole garden and orchard, and looked into all the outbuildings—up, down, and all around. There was no sign of her to be found anywhere. I was consumed by anxiety, it was beginning to grow dark, and my voice was growing hoarse from calling her.

When Edward returned, he was still alone; he said that there had been no sign of her in the Village and that his inquiries about a stranger in the vicinity had been met with denials—no one had seen such a woman today. We were completely confounded—_where could Adele be?_

**That's right-****-you get another "cliffie". Enjoy, I'll be back later with more news.**


	22. Chapter 22

**In which we resolve the mystery of the veiled woman.**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 22

Poor Sophie was in a state of collapse at the news that Adele was still missing, Mrs. Fairfax and I were not much better. Mr. Rochester tried to lift our spirits by saying that he was certain that she would soon be found, but I could see that he was also very troubled at the child's disappearance.

Mealtime came and went—it was impossible for me to eat—my state of anxiety prevented it. I could not even think of sleeping—most of us could not. Even Pilot seemed to be disturbed, he kept whining and wandering about the house. At last Edward sent him to the Stables where his kennel was—but even there he would not settle down—he began to howl until I thought we would all go mad from the noise he was making.

My cousins had helped in the search, and now that night had fallen, they had gone to their rooms except for St. John who was sitting with our Uncle. I was afraid that the dog's noise would disturb Uncle John, but apparently he was insensible to it. Mr. Carter had looked in earlier and had indicated that he thought Uncle John would not be with us much longer—he was sinking rapidly now.

I went to see him and was shocked to see his greyish pallor, with his lips taking on a bluish cast. Earlier that day he had been so lively when he talked to me—and now, I could almost see the life draining out of him with each labored breath he took. Soon he would be gone—my dear Uncle, whom I had known for such a short time. I stayed for a while and then I left—I could not bear to see him going from us forever.

Edward found me as I wandered aimlessly down the hallway, "Come, sit with me in the Library, let's talk awhile. I have been thinking about this disappearance of Adele's and I would like to consult with you about some of the ideas I have had." We entered the room and sat down, he sent for a tea tray, "You have not been eating," was his observation, "You can not go on like this—your system is running on nervous energy alone—if you were to break down under all the strain—it would be very hard for me to forgive myself for being the one who did not notice in time."

"I am sorry, it's just that at times like this—my throat seems to close up and I can't swallow—it is something that has always happened to me when I am upset."

"My poor darling girl, I shall send for some soup and trickle it down your throat if I have to; but I must get some nourishment into you before you dissolve into a figment of my imagination!"

His foolishness startled a giggle out of me, "You are perfectly absurd, sir!"

"That's better, soon I shall have you more yourself. Tell me how your Uncle does?"

"He is resting quietly, I think he will soon be gone. I am sad for him, but I knew he was not well. Tell me please, what are your thoughts on Adele's disappearance."

"Ah no, not so fast, my love, knowledge has a price, you know—firstly you must attempt to eat some of this and have a sip or two of your tea, then perhaps I will share my thoughts with you. That's right—one for me, and some for Mrs. Fairfax, and this one is for Sophie, and another for Leah; then there are your cousins—come now, a bite for each one of them." Before I knew it; the dishes were empty and I _was _feeling better.

"You must be a magician—all the food has disappeared!" I said, "Perhaps that is just as well, I'm afraid that the next bite would have been for Pilot!"

He chuckled and gave me a kiss, "You are becoming adept at divining my strategies, little fairy! But as to Pilot, I believe that we have been overlooking an important clue. You recall his behavior earlier when he was wandering the halls so restlessly—I think he was trying to tell us something. It's unfortunate that he can't speak English—but any astute observer of canine behavior would posit that the dog was aware of a thing that we had not considered."

"But what could that be?" I asked him.

"First, I wish to ask that boy a question."

"Which boy?"

"That Fielding child."

We went to where the Fielding family's Quarters were and asked to see little Robin—it was late and the child was a bit sleepy, but he answered our questions readily enough. "Robin, the lady that you saw speaking with Miss Adele—when was it that you saw her? Was it today?"

"Oh no sir, 'twas several days ago—I did not see Miss Adele today."

"And there you have it," he said as we walked away from their rooms, "Great civilizations have fallen on the strength of the unasked question."

"To what do you refer?"

"For example—_whether the Horse of Troy was empty or full, or whether a trumpet blast could topple the mighty Walls of Jericho?_"

"Do you think we can find Adele soon?"

"I believe so."

**The veiled lady was Mrs. Fairbairn and the veil was there as a protection against sunburn, dust, and insects. Jane, herself, uses such a veil when she returns from Gatehead. Now, then, wherever could Adele be?**


	23. Chapter 23

**For those who worried over Adele, here is where she gets located-and there's a surprise.**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 23

We went to the Stables to release Pilot from his captivity. The dog greeted his master with the usual exuberant canine expression s of joy—jumping up and trying to kiss his master's face, whining and wagging his tail when fended off ("**Down, you great brute!**"), whisking and frolicking like some shaggy clown ("**Heel, you monster!**"), and obediently following us back to the house.

"I believe that Pilot knows where Adele is," Edward told me. "His behavior had me perplexed at first because I associated his unrest with your Uncle and his decline; but then it occurred to me that there could be another cause. You see, when I went out this afternoon and evening on my futile search for the child and could find _nobody _who had seen her or the mysterious woman; I began to wonder if we had not missed something important somehow."

Here we entered the house and went up to Adele's room with Pilot following behind. Here the dog began to snuff about as though following a trail. Edward petted him and showed him a pair of Adele's shoes—the dog gave a short sharp "Wuff!" and went quickly out into the hallway—he went down the stairs and out to the Kitchens, and then came back, still with his nose to the ground. He went into the Library, hunted about—and then came out again. We followed him upstairs and down several hallways before Pilot stopped in front of a paneled wall that looked no different from any other place. He sniffed about the baseboard and scratched at it, whining as he did so.

Edward's eyebrows rose, "I rather thought so," was all he said, then he praised Pilot for his diligence. He then set about feeling around the panel until suddenly it sprang open—leaving a dark gap in the wall. Pilot went through into the dark interior with no hesitation and then came back looking askance at us for not following after him. "We need some light," Edward said, and went to fetch a lantern. I stood there waiting for him to return—the passage smelled musty and there was dust on the floor—I looked closer and saw besides Pilot's pawprints, the traces of small footprints—Adele—she had been here! I called her name, but all I heard was an echo.

Mr. Rochester returned with the lantern, John by his side. "Aye Master Edward," John was saying, "I remember hearing about these passages—'twas a long time ago they were used. There was times when things was done that needed to be kept quiet. Not bad stuff—just that the Family had enemies—their Politics was against them. There was some hard times a hundred years or so agone—you'll recall that tale about the King being hidden here?"

"Yes, Charles II, before he escaped to the Continent—my Father used to talk about that—I think he'd heard it from his Grandfather. I believe he had managed to seduce half the maidservants before they got him away!"

"Aye, that sounds likely, he was overfond of females, that one!"

I looked at them reproachfully, "I hardly think we should be discussing the King's lack of moral principles when we should be looking for Adele."

The men had the grace to look embarrassed at their lack of discretion. They looked at each other and Mr. Rochester shrugged, "She's right, you know. John, I want you to stay here and make sure that we don't get trapped behind the panel. Here Jane, you take the light and follow Pilot, I'll be right behind you."

We went on for quite a long way—twisting and turning and sometimes climbing steps, sometimes going down instead. It was dark, despite the light from the lantern, but I felt safe—sandwiched as I was between Pilot and Edward—at last we came to a place like a little room and there was Adele—her face showing tearstains, she had fallen asleep, still clutching her doll—all curled up on a pile of what seemed to be dusty old draperies.

Pilot went up to her and woofed softly—she opened her eyes and gave a cry of joy at seeing us. "Oh you have found me at last! I am so happy! The Lady said that you would soon be here!"

I was hugging her to me when she said this, I looked at her and I said, "What Lady was that, Adele?"

"Yes, what Lady are you speaking of?" Edward asked her.

"There was a beautiful Lady who came to me when I was lost and crying—she told me not to be afraid, she said that she would keep me safe until you could find me."

"What did she look like?"

"I cannot say exactly, after all it was dark and I could not see her clearly, she was very pale and she smelled wonderful—like roses. Her voice was very sweet and she laughed once, it was like hearing silver bells. I felt so much better that I laid down and went to sleep."

"You do not see her now?"

"Oh no, I see you instead, and I am glad because that means I can leave this place—after all, it is very dark and rather dirty here."

"How did you come to be in here?" Edward asked her.

"I don't know exactly, I was playing in the hallway and I tripped and fell against the wall—and it opened—and I fell in—and the door closed and I couldn't get out and I looked and looked for a long time until I got tired—and then the Lady came and stayed with me—and then I wasn't afraid anymore. I'm very hungry—is it Dinnertime yet?"

"Yes, but first Sophie is going to clean you up—you got all dirty," I said.

"Oh my dress! It's got cobwebs!"

We made it safely out of the passageway and delivered Adele to Sophie for a thorough cleansing and a meal. Edward would not let me go to tend to her—he said he had something to tell me. Accordingly, I followed him into the Library.

He was looking very thoughtful as he turned to me, "I must tell you something, Janet—that little adventure of Adele's and her subsequent vision raise a very interesting point. It rather changes my views of some things that I had long believed were true."

"What? Because she saw the family ghost?"

"You have put it in a nutshell—'The Family Ghost', yes, just so. The White Lady appears _only_ to the members of the Rochester family—and to _no _others. It has always been thus, without exception. Apparently, despite what I thought (and I still don't understand how it can be) Adele must be my child."

"That's quite a surprise for you, sir."

"Nothing I had anticipated in my wildest imaginings. I am glad now that I brought her here—it seems that this is where she belongs, after all."

**I have seen so much disagreement about Adele's origins over the years that I decided to add my own twist.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Yep, it's confession time for our hero. He finally put two and two together!**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 24

"Yes, she must be my child," he repeated, "But I am still wondering how it could have happened. There is only one explanation that occurs to me—and I am afraid that you will think very poorly of me—indeed, I should not tell you about such things."

"Then do not tell me, if you think it unwise..."

"No, I am convinced that I should confess my sins to you—better that I should be the one to tell you, rather than another person who might misinterpret my actions. At any rate, when I first came to Paris, I was still a bit green behind the ears, as they say, and I did not understand all the implications of what some of the people around me were doing. I soon found myself in a group of wild, reckless young men—I was, at that point, ripe for folly. I had spent the last few years doing my duty by a woman who I could not accept as a wife even though she was supposedly married to me. Then the burden of the Estate had fallen upon my shoulders. I felt as though I had never been young and carefree—had never had the chance to kick up my heels and enjoy myself.

"Some of my 'friends' invited me to a Masquerade party to be held at a large chateau outside of Paris. It sounded like great fun and I was eager to go and experience such a grand affair as it promised to be. So we set off for adventure, my boon companions and I, all of us in masks and domino cloaks, prepared for an evening of fun and dissipation. We went in a coach belonging to one of the group—an older man—the Comte de _, we had provided ourselves with several cases of wine to share along the way, and so we arrived at the party already well-begun on our own celebration."

"So, you'd been drinking—I don't see anything shocking about that."

"Yes, but too much alcohol in the system can lead to a certain carelessness in one's behavior, and so it was with me and my companions that night. It was a lavish and noisy affair—the wine flowed, the food was marvelous, the women were extremely amiable. I realized later, much later, that they were _ paid _to be friendly. Celine, apparently, must have been one of the women who were present and amiable. Very amiable, _seductively _so, she, of course, was masked as were all of us, so I never saw her face.

"I'm afraid that I forgot myself in the midst of my intoxication and did something I should not have done had I been sober. I went aside with her and we spent some time together in a very intimate fashion—which I will refrain from describing, as I am still ashamed of my actions that night. After that interlude, I went on to more wine and more revelry until I awoke in the Dawn with a sour taste in my mouth and a bad headache. I was back in the coach with my 'friends', returning to Paris with the past night nothing but a blurred memory.

"Needless to say, I never went to such a party again—I was offended at my own behavior—let alone that of the people I was with. I resolved never to repeat the experiment, and I soon fell away from that group, confident that I could find better friends than those."

"I am glad that you realized that your friends were leading you astray, in time to make a change in your amusements."

"Amusements! No, I did not find those occurrences _amusing. _Au contraire, my little friend, they were perhaps, educational—but never truly amusing! Anyway, to make a long story short; I met Celine formally some weeks later, and soon took up with her—never suspecting her need for a protector and 'father' for her child. I believe that she recognized me somehow from that raucous party and so, felt justified in naming me as the cause of her child's conception. I never believed her at the time because, as far as I could see, the dates didn't match—Adele was no seven-month child! I did her an injustice at that time, but not later, when I broke with her, over finding her with another man. I am sorry that I had to tell you these sordid things, but we had resolved not to have secrets, hadn't we?"

"I am certainly not pleased with your behavior, I should have to hope that you would realize the possible consequences of your careless actions!"

"But can you forgive me?"

"The things you did at that time had nothing to do with me, as we did not know each other then. I can only trust that you have turned away from that sort of life."

"I did that the day I met you—if not before!"

I noticed that Edward changed toward Adele after her adventure; he was kinder and more attentive to her than he had been before; and Adele, always hungry for attention, blossomed under his regard. She had always been a pleasant child, well-behaved and obedient; but ever there had been an underlying sadness to her, an anxiety that somehow she might in a flash, lose all that she had and be left subject to the whims of an indifferent world. She seemed more confident now, less uncertain of her future. I was very pleased to see her so carefree at last.

**Yes, that's the sort of thing that goes on at wild parties-now you know why his house party was so sedate!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Okay, herewith the contents of the Will-not every one will be pleased! Mwah haha!**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 25

I see that I have not mentioned my Uncle's condition lately. I had last seen him in his bed, visibly sinking, awaiting the Dark Angel's visit for his final trip from this world. St. John had been with him at the time. Then I had been distracted by Adele's disappearance and all else had gone from my mind; in favor of the concerns of the living over those who were dying. Indeed, it was just when we had found Adele in her dusty little nook, that my Uncle finally gave his last gasping breaths.

Being that most of my gowns were black, I had no need to acquire Mourning clothes, they were what I habitually wore. I sincerely missed my Uncle—he had been very kind, so concerned for me—my greatest regret was that we had had such little time together to know each other, to share our experiences. He had not approved of Mr. Rochester at first; he had found him to be too worldly and unprincipled to be seriously considered as a suitor for his Niece. But on my pleading with him, he had finally given me his blessing—realizing perhaps, that he would soon be leaving me alone again when he passed away.

Edward was my great comfort and support through those sad days when I mourned my Uncle's passing. He, it was, who made the final arrangements, and saw me through to the sad moments when my Uncle's coffin sank into his grave as St. John spoke the final words—"ashes to ashes, dust to dust". My cousins were grief stricken also—one more of the Family gone to his final rest—it had been a hard year for us. They had lost their Father, and I had lost my Aunt Reed and her son as well. While I did not particularly miss either one of them—especially John Reed—nonetheless, their passing left an empty place in my life. However, that was all in the Past and my main concern should be the Future.

Mr. Briggs, who had remained at Thornfield all this time, called us together in the Library after the Funeral. It was time that my Uncle's final wishes were made known. I sat with Mary and Diana—St. John was off to one side—Edward stood behind me. Mr. Briggs began by saying, "My first concern today is not the last will and testament of my late client, Mr. John Eyre; we will come to that later. It is my understanding that Mr. Edward Fairfax Rochester, here present, had petitioned my client for permission to marry his niece, Miss Jane Rebecca Eyre. Upon due consideration of that request, and under consultation with Miss Eyre as to her wishes in the matter, my client has given his blessing to their Union—permission to marry is granted."

There was a silence in the room after he pronounced these words—Mary and Diana looked at me and smiled, St. John kicked at the rug and looked annoyed. Edward's hands came to rest on my shoulders gently, he bent and whispered in my ear, "Did you know that he had agreed?" I patted his hand and nodded my head, his hands briefly tightened on my shoulders and then one hand softly brushed my cheek in a subtle caress. I suddenly felt warm all over—as though an errant sunbeam had touched upon me.

"I will now proceed to the the reading of the Last Will and Testament of my late client, Mr. John Wilson Eyre, late of Funchal, Madeira." He proceeded through the usual statements that append to such documents—it was time for the bequests, I was still in the happy daze left from hearing of my Uncle's consent to my Matrimony, when I heard my name once again. "To my niece, Jane Rebecca Eyre, I leave one quarter of the funds invested by me in Consols, to be held in trust for her and her issue, or until she should reach the age of twenty-five years; a yearly allowance of five hundred pounds to be paid to her until such time. She shall also receive my properties in Madeira, consisting of a residence and a warehouse with the contents thereof—these last to be put in her possession as soon as may be.

"To my nieces, Mary Sophia and Diana Elizabeth Rivers, each shall receive one quarter of the funds invested by me in Consols, to be held in trust until their marriages, or until they each shall reach the age of twenty-five; a yearly allowance of five hundred pounds to be paid each of them until such time.

"To my nephew, St. John Eyre Rivers, I leave him the choice of where he shall pursue his missionary labors. Should he persist in his vainglorious scheme of going to India to reform the Heathens, I leave him one thousand pounds of his quarter share of my funds invested in Consols—the remainder to be donated to the charities listed in a sealed document in my Solicitor's keeping. Should he instead, choose to remain in England where his labors are equally needed; he shall receive the whole amount in annual installments of five hundred pounds."

Mr. Briggs gave us all a considering look, "My late client had been very fortunate in his business endeavors—the amount in the Funds, or Consols, as my late client would have it; comes to the neighborhood of twenty thousand pounds. It is an adequate amount for the bequests as he outlined them. Mr. Rivers, you of course, will need to make your wishes known to me in the matter of the terms of your bequest. As to you young ladies, your allowances will be made available to you immediately, upon your decisions as to the manner of receiving them; whether monthly, quarterly, or annually. I thank you for your time and attention." He then folded the documents and set them to one side—in his hands now were several sets of papers.

I approached him first and was handed several papers for my signature. These were the deeds to the properties in Madeira. Then I was asked as to my preference for receiving my allowance—I indicated that quarterly payments would suit—I signed those papers and was done. Mary and Diana followed me and indicating their preferred payment schedules—signed those papers also. We then left Mr. Briggs and St. John in possession of the Library—I could tell from the look on my Cousin's face that a storm was brewing and I had no desire to be present when he expressed his feelings—they were certain to be forceful!

Edward accompanied us out of the Library—there was a look of unholy amusement on his face. "That Uncle of yours was a clever man," he said. "He's got your money nicely tied up for you, no Fortune-hunters need apply!"

I gave him a look, "I trust you do not refer to yourself, sir."

"My love, you may have your money and make 'ducks and drakes' of it for all I care—gamble it away, spend it on Tractarian Societies, expend it on improving the myriad ills of Society—my blessing upon your endeavors; just as long as I find you at home for Dinner and marital companionship afterward."

I felt my face grow burning hot at the sly reference, "Really, sir, must you mention...?"

"Ho! I think we should not delay our Wedding much longer if your thoughts are trending in that direction!"

**Naughty man, how he delights in embarrassing her! What will St. John choose to do with his bequest? One could see that he was annoyed when Edward received permission to marry her. He would have liked to have tried his luck in that direction.**


	26. Chapter 26

**I know, I'm spoiling you guys rotten, updating so soon-but the thing practically wrote itself. Hate to tell you, but the barrel has a rotten apple in it, and Cliff makes a return appearance.**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 26

Really, there were times when Edward had a way of saying things to me that were not only rather embarrassing—but somehow also leaving me with a delightful feeling of anticipation for what the Future might bring, in terms of those conjugal enjoyments shared by the married among us. There were times when I felt the most enjoyable sensations, just from a gentle touch on my hand, or from the knowledge that he was close by me. A kiss or an embrace was even better, and he was not stingy with these outer expressions of his sentiments. He wished for our Wedding to be soon—I was also of that mind, and now that my Uncle had given his permission, I would that it could take place tomorrow!

Just now I was curious to know what St. John's decision would be concerning his bequest; but it was useless to attempt to pry the information from him. His sisters had tried—only to be met with a shrug, and the matter was apparently shelved until a later time should disclose all. Indeed, that evening, at Dinner (I had finally consented that the ladies should dine at the same table as the gentlemen—since my Betrothal was now officially recognized) he finally unbent enough to tell us of what had transpired in the Library once he had made his decision known.

"It surprises me that you would doubt my resolution for the enterprise," he said, "I regard my mission to India as a command from Heaven itself. I could no more disregard my duty to God than I could neglect my Earthly needs for food and shelter in order to carry out my Calling. It seems that our Uncle was testing my resolve," and here he drew a piece of paper from his pocket and passed it around the table. "This is the sealed document that my Uncle had left with Mr. Briggs to be opened if I persisted in my idea to go to India."

"Aye, your Uncle John was a canny one," was Mr. Briggs' observation.

I read the paper in some surprise—instead of a list of charities: I found the following statement—"As this document has been opened, I must presume that my Nephew has insisted on his scheme to travel to India for the Salvation of the natives. Dubious though I may be as to the success of this plan, and the need for such endeavor, I shall not impede his will. He is to receive the entire amount bequeathed him of one quarter of my investment in Consols—payable upon demand."

"It seems that our Uncle John wished to be certain of the strength of my Calling," St. John said calmly.

"The man had a good head on him for his business dealings," was Mr. Briggs' addition.

"Presumably he learned from his errors," said St. John with a frown. I remembered then that a bad investment entered into upon my Uncle's advice, had caused the loss of the greater part of their Father's income some years ago, and had led to my Uncle quitting England in favor of greener pastures. I was pleased that amends had finally been made.

The next morning found me in the Garden with Adele and my cousins, Diana and Mary—we were engaged in sketching when St. John wandered by and insisted on walking with me. The sisters looked at each other with some sort of wordless communication between them—eyebrows were raised and sly smiles and shrugs were the main sum of it. They took Adele aside to show her a bird's nest in the hedge and waved St. John and myself away.

Frankly, their conspiracy made me uncomfortable, but I could see no way to avoid St. John's obvious wish to be private with me. He evidently had something he wished to say—I hoped he would not be long at it—nor was he. He was most succinct in his words, "Jane, I will be leaving for India soon, I would like to take you with me."

I was completely taken aback by this, "You wish me to go to India—with _you_! I could never agree to such...I am betrothed to Mr. Rochester; I have given my word to marry him; our Uncle has given his permission; I _will not and cannot_ break my promise!"

"Nonsense, I am your Guardian now that our Uncle is dead, and I say that you shall not marry Edward Rochester!"

**How do you like those apples-hmmm? More fun to come!**


	27. Chapter 27

**This is where our story will end-sorry but that's what my characters want. It's gonna end with a bang though!**

THE MORNING AFTER Chapter 27

My Cousin's arrogance in attempting to cancel my engagement to Edward made me furious. I glared at him, "You are no Guardian of mine!" I cried, "That would require you to go to Chancery Court, if I am not mistaken—and then—being my Guardian, you could not marry me!" I turned on my heel and left him standing there. I hurried back to the House—intent upon finding Edward and Mr. Briggs. The latter had been planning to leave us now that all was settled with my Uncle's estate. I prayed that he had not yet departed for London.

Indeed, I was only just in time, for there he stood with the Coach at the door, his trunks in process of being secured in the Boot, he was in the act of saying his Farewells to Mr. Rochester, when I appeared breathlessly in the midst of the bustle of activity. "Mr. Briggs, I pray your indulgence for a moment—there is a problem that I must lay before you, ere you depart."

"But of course, Miss Eyre, I am your servant always—please tell me of your difficulty." So I informed him of my Cousin's untoward declaration. I saw from the corner of my eye, Edward's reaction—his face flushed, his hiss of anger, his fists clenched—but he said nothing. Mr. Briggs echoed my opinion, that St. John had no power _at this time _to interfere with the Wedding. He wisely suggested that we lose no time in accomplishing our marriage, whether by a trip to Scotland or by means of a License. He then had his luggage taken back into the House and delayed for the moment, his travel plan.

Edward took me into his private Study and sat me down—"Well, my love, it seems the time has come for us to act. What shall it be? The anvil or the altar?* I am prepared to do either—as I have no intention of losing you to that fellow's caprices."

At some point, I had started to shiver, perhaps at the mere idea of being married to my Cousin. Edward, ever sensitive to my feelings, inquired if I felt cold—I told him that I was not cold—only upset by the mere thought of being married to a man who cared nothing for me, but only for the benefits I might bring to him in terms of money and unpaid labor—a sacrifice to his ambition.

"I think there is only one thing I want to do just now, my darling—indulge me in this, if you will." With that he took me in his arms and began to kiss my face and neck; the shivering soon went away as I relaxed under his attentions. I became aware that my dress was being loosened and that his lips were straying into previously unexplored territories—I considered making an objection, but decided that it was too much trouble. I seemed to be existing in a warm haze of gratification—I never wanted it to end—my arms had somehow entwined themselves around his neck—and his tongue had somehow strayed into my mouth where it was jousting vigorously with mine, and there was a hand making its way up my leg under my skirts.

I definitely felt warm all over, and there was more than that happening—I was aware of a wanting, an urgency for something I could not define. Edward chose that moment to abruptly cease his invasions into my personal areas. He set himself apart from me, "No more, by God—or I shall not be able to stop! Name your choice, Jane, Scotland or the License—but let it be swiftly done!"

-xxx-

There was a great disturbance at Thornfield that night; I was roused from my slumbers by a knocking on doors and a voice shouting something that sounded like my name. I was reluctant to rise, being very comfortable where I was. However, the hullabaloo continued until it arrived at the door of the bedchamber where I was. "Hell and damnation!" cried my companion, "What the Devil is going on now?" Perhaps you will have divined that I was not alone in the bed—Mr. Rochester was sharing his bedchamber with me that night.

He rose from the bed in all his male glory and somehow found a dressing gown to wrap about himself. That matter achieved to his satisfaction, he opened the door to find a furious St. John on the other side. "You Villain," he almost hissed, "what have you done with my Cousin Jane?"

"I?" replied Edward nonchalantly, "Why, nothing that might not be expected of a man on his Wedding Night."

"That cannot be possible! I gave no permission for such a thing!"

"Perhaps not, but _both_ Mr. Briggs and the Bishop agreed that her _Uncle's _permission was sufficient."

"The Bishop performed the ceremony at such short notice? That sounds a bit unusual..."

"His Excellency is a connection of mine on the Fairfax side of the family—he was delighted to preside. Now, I do not wish to seem inhospitable, especially to a member of my Wife's family, but you would greatly oblige me by departing this house at Daybreak, your sisters may stay if they wish. If you will excuse me, I was rather occupied when you disturbed us." With that final salvo, he closed the door on the inhabitants of the Hallway. He made his way back to the bed, "That went rather well, I think," he said complacently, "Now where were we when we were so rudely interrupted?"

I could not help myself—I laughed until I cried—and I discovered that Edward was laughing also. "I wish that I might have seen his face when you said that about the Bishop," I said, "I had no idea that he was a relation of yours."

"Oh well, you know how it is—after a century or so, one ends up related to half the Neighborhood, one way or another. Now, what is this? Have you put clothes on? You know that I prefer you without such things. I shall just have to take them off, shan't I?" Here he gave the heavy sigh of a greatly put-upon man, and I rewarded him with the smile of a very satisfied woman.

Yes, Reader, I had married him!

*He refers here to the custom at Gretna Green of a marriage performed by the blacksmith over his anvil.

**I hope you have enjoyed this little excursion-I certainly could not wait to see what these 'paper-dolls' might do next. Yours, until Inspiration strikes again.**


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